The Promise in the Candle
by WolfGirl1331
Summary: Booth and Brennan move towards a relationship in the scenes we didn't see between The Blackout in the Blizzard and The Change in the Game. Rated M for later chapters.
1. The Blackout in the Blizzard

**It's been over two and a half years since I've posted anything other than a very short one-shot so I'm quite nervous about starting a multi-chapter again. This one has been in my head for months and life has finally calmed down enough for me to write it. I'm pretty rusty so reviews would be very much appreciated to let me know if I've still got it! Hopefully you guys will like it but either way I'm still really enjoying being back in the fanfiction community. Special thanks to dgschneider whose fantastic multi-chapter epics gave me the last push I needed to get back to writing myself. **

**This chapter takes up right after The Blackout in the Blizzard fades out. **

The room grew quiet as their bickering trailed off and they lapsed into companionable silence. They sat, mesmerized, as the light from the candles flickered off the walls of Booth's apartment, casting a warm glow over the room. The hypnotizing power of the candlelight provided a welcome and calming distraction from the thoughts racing through their minds.

A city wide power outage had forced them to solve a murder from the confines of an elevator whilst dodging both a set of cumbersome stadium chairs and an awkward conversation that had been brewing since Hannah's departure. Having finally realized her feelings for Booth several months previously, Brennan had been struggling to come to terms with the fact that she had missed her chance to be with him. However, Hannah's rejection of Booth's marriage proposal had changed everything.

Brennan glanced down at the evidence of this change still smoldering on the coffee table. The remnants of the paper on which they had each written down a future date when they thought they might finally be ready to be together. Brennan's fingers itched to brush away the ash, her mind reaching for a task to occupy itself even just for a few moments while she evaluated the consequences of this "spell", as Booth had called it. Though she had scoffed at his claim that burning the paper scraps would ensure the future of their relationship, she had privately rejoiced in Booth's obvious hope that eventually they would be able to overcome the issues between them and move forward as a couple.

Shifting slightly on the salvaged stadium seats, Brennan glanced around Booth's disorderly apartment in search of a trash can in which to dispose of the ash. When this proved unsuccessful she settled back into the rather uncomfortable seat and dropped her hands into her lap. Her fingers lightly brushed against her mother's ring as she fought the impulse to fiddle with it and therefore reveal her nervousness to her partner. She risked a glance at Booth and found that he wasn't looking in her direction, but at the opposite wall where the candlelight created hypnotic displays of light and shadow.

Her scientist's mind couldn't help but recall the ancient Asian tradition of shadow puppetry, in which cut-out figures were used to depict a story via the shadows they cast on a surface. She thought of all the figures that would be needed to tell the story of her and Booth. So much of what lay between them was intangible and ill-defined, like the shadows themselves, and could be interpreted differently depending on the perspective of the observer.

Angela had always been convinced that she and Booth belonged together and that Brennan should just make a move, as if it were somehow that simple. Sweets had been analyzing them for years and through the vagaries of psychology had come to the conclusion that they were in love with each other but afraid to risk what they already had. Booth himself had said that he knew right from their first meeting that they were meant to be together. His absolute certainty and belief in this ideal in the absence of any tangible proof had both confused and frightened her, eventually causing her to retreat to the other side of the world rather than confront her fears. The Lauren Eames case had forced her to admit that those fears had driven Booth into the arms of another woman. A woman he had claimed to be happy with until she too had rejected him. Brennan winced at the painful memory of that night when her evening had been interrupted by a tearful call from Hannah.

"_Temperance, it's Hannah."_

"_Hannah? Why are you calling at this hour? I thought you had dinner plans with Booth?" Has something happened to him?" _

_The questions had tumbled out of her as she had tried to control the panic rising inside of her, only for that panic to be replaced by a surge of white hot anger as Hannah had told her what happened. The love for Booth that she could no longer deny had fuelled her righteous indignation as she imagined the pain this rejection would have caused him. _

"_But … how could you? How could you reject him like that? I warned you! I told you Booth would give himself to you completely and that you should be certain you were as committed to the relationship as he was before you moved in together. You said you were! You lied!"_

Her desperation to get to Booth and make sure he was okay had caused her to cut off the call before Hannah had a chance to explain. She had quickly gathered her things and rushed out of her apartment to find him, which she did a short while later in The Founding Fathers. His pain and self-loathing had radiated from him as he sat slumped at the bar clutching what was obviously not his first scotch of the evening. She had wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms and contradict his belief that no woman wanted him, to erase the tortured look on his face and apologize for the part she had played in his misery. But he had been too angry then, with her as well as with Hannah, so she had simply sat with him.

As she stared at the shadows dancing on the wall, she breathed a sigh of relief at Booth's earlier assertion that, although he was still angry, he was no longer angry with her. Her sigh caught Booth's attention and he turned towards her.

"You okay there, Bones?"

Having been so lost in her thoughts it took Brennan a moment to respond. Looking intently into his eyes she replied, "I'm fine, Booth. I was just thinking about what we were discussing earlier, and how relieved I am that you are no longer angry with me."

Booth shifted in his seat and readjusted his grip on the popcorn he was holding. This was still difficult and uncomfortable territory for him. After their conversation in the elevator he had felt it was the right time to let her know he had forgiven her, but that didn't mean that he was ready to discuss it further.

"Look, Bones. I'm really glad we did this tonight and that you and I are getting back on track, but there's still a lot of things I have to figure out before I can talk anymore about this."

When she looked like she wanted to protest, Booth rushed to reassure her. "We will discuss _us_, Bones, just not tonight. Let's just let things happen naturally. Okay?"

His eyes pleaded with her to understand and not push him further. The last thing he wanted was to become angry with her again or make her feel rejected, he just needed more time. He sighed with relief when her face softened in acceptance. "Of course, I understand."

She wanted to say so much more, but she trusted him and knew she would get the chance eventually. For now, she could be content to just be with him and enjoy the easy friendship which they had fostered over the years. The friendship she had so desperately missed when he had been with Hannah.

She was searching her mind for an alternative topic of conversation when the lights in Booth's apartment suddenly flickered and then flared to life.

"Hey," Booth exclaimed, "the power's back on!" Setting his popcorn aside he jumped to his feet and began blowing out the candles.

Brennan chuckled at his enthusiasm. "If only the city engineers had accomplished this while we were confined to the elevator. It would certainly have expedited matters in regards to solving the case."

"Yeah," Booth replied blowing out the final candle, "and maybe I wouldn't have put my back out trying to get us out of there."

Brennan's brow furrowed in concern. "I thought the Thai massage I gave you earlier had alleviated your discomfort? Perhaps I should massage you again?"

"No!" Booth quickly held up his hand to halt her move towards him. The memory of her hands dangerously close to his crotch while he lay supine on the floor of the elevator was still fresh in his mind, and given the delicate nature of their relationship he didn't want to risk sending her the wrong signals if he got _overstimulated_.

"I mean, it's fine now, really. The massage did help. Thanks for doing that for me, Bones."

Brennan smiled, "You're welcome. I'm glad I could be of assistance." Privately, she was relieved that he had rejected her offer. It had been more difficult than she cared to admit to keep her hands in the appropriate position for the massage when all she had really wanted to do was slide them up his thigh and …

"So," Booth's voice interrupted her thoughts, "we've already got the popcorn. How about a movie?"

"Sure!" Brennan answered quickly while she surreptitiously pulled her hair from behind her ears to obscure the blush which had formed on her cheeks thanks to the salacious turn her thoughts had taken.

Booth leant forward and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. Flicking the TV on he began to browse through the channels, giving Brennan a few moments to compose herself. Over the years she had experienced a number of erotic thoughts about her partner, which she had rationally attributed to the hormones produced in response to Booth's physical attractiveness rather than as a result of any emotional considerations. It was both exciting and unnerving that she could no longer make that assertion. She was in love with Booth, and he knew it, which made any claim that her desire for him was purely physical both irrational and pointless. A wistful smile ghosted her lips as she watched him. He was hunched forward staring intently at the TV screen, a position which accentuated his broad shoulders and impressive musculature. As appealing as she had always found him physically, it was who he was as a man which had ultimately made her fall in love with him.

Temperance Brennan didn't know a lot about love, but she believed she knew enough to understand that sometimes love involved showing patience and understanding. She resolved in that moment to apply her considerable ability to compartmentalize her emotions to doing just that for Booth. He would come to her when he was ready to talk about Hannah and the other pachyderms in the room, but for now, she would just be his friend and partner.

"Aha!" Booth sat back with a satisfied smile on his face. "Fight Club is coming on."

Pushing her thoughts aside to further analyze when she was alone, Brennan turned her attention to Booth. "Fight Club? I don't believe I've heard of that particular movie. Could you provide a brief synopsis?"

Booth grinned and leant forward conspiratorially, "Ah, but, Bones, you don't talk about Fight Club."

Confusion clouded her features. "That makes no sense, Booth. Why would we be allowed to watch the movie but not discuss it?"

Chuckling, Booth shook his head. "Never mind, Bones. It'll make sense when you watch it."

Brennan cocked her head and considered his cryptic response for a moment, before deciding not to question him further.

"Okay, but I suggest we relocate to the couch. These seats have no lumbar support or cushioning and are therefore not conducive to long term comfort."

As much as it confused and irritated him at times, Booth would never get tired of hearing her squinty talk. It was part of what made her so unique and he would never want that to change. "Right as usual, Bones. I'll grab us a couple more beers."

He moved into the kitchen while Brennan seated herself on the couch just as the opening credits of Fight Club began to roll. Returning to the living area Booth handed Brennan her drink and sat down next to her, casually draping one arm over the back of the couch and resting one foot on his knee. Having gotten comfortable they both focused their attention on the screen as the opening titles continued to flash across it.

After a while, Brennan felt Booth's hand slide down to land softly on her shoulder. Neither one of them acknowledged it. Booth refused to feel guilty for it. Brennan refused to analyze it. They both needed that connection, however small, to reassure themselves that they would be okay. For now, that was enough.

**Well that came easier than I thought it would, so hopefully that means I can still write after all this time (or maybe I've just learned to type faster). Anyway, I would be so grateful if you could please leave me a review. Even if it's only a few words I would still love to know what you thought. I have plans to do one chapter for every episode up to The Change in the Game, so eight chapters including this one. Thank you so much for reading. **

***Since I first posted this chapter it has been pointed out to me that the power was already back on by the time the episode ended. Woops, my bad! I love that scene so much that I just never noticed the lamps were on! I'm guessing it came back on at some point during the evening and Booth and Brennan just decided to leave the candles. I like the chapter the way it is so I'm not going to change it, so I hope you'll grant me that small bit of poetic license and pretend that the power was still off when the episode ended.***


	2. The Feet on the Beach

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and followed this story so far. Your encouragement means a lot to me especially after I've been away from writing for so long. I replied to all the signed reviews directly but for those of you who left guest reviews please know how grateful I am for your comments. **

**This chapter takes up right after The Feet on the Beach fades out. **

Booth took a swig from his beer as he listened to Brennan finish explaining the origin of the word "regret" in her squinty tone of voice, having already given him the etymology of "contrite". They were sat at the bar in The Founding Fathers having their usual post-case celebratory drinks. Much to Brennan's annoyance, Canadian forensic podiatrist Dr. Douglas Filmore had been instrumental in solving the case and she had been compelled by Booth and Sweets to both acknowledge his assistance and apologize for her scathing reaction to his field of study. Knowing how much it had cost her to do so, Booth had told her he was proud of her, at which point she had admitted to feeling contrite for having hurt Dr. Filmore's feelings and caused the paralysis of his arm.

Having finished her explanation Brennan reached for her beer, only to stop and turn to Booth, a frown distorting her features. Booth knew that look. She was about to ask him to further explain a concept which was still causing her confusion. Booth set his drink down and turned to give her his full attention.

"Earlier you said that I do not have to apologize for the things that I think, like the fact that I think your socks are silly."

"Right," Booth replied, smiling inwardly as he recalled her somewhat judgmental observations about his socks and coffee drinking habits.

"However," Brennan continued, "when I feel contrite about something that I have said or done, then I ought to apologize to the person whom I have offended, correct?"

"Yeah," Booth nodded, "Like I said, we can't be expected to apologize for every thought that we have. The idea is that we censor our thoughts when we speak so that we don't hurt other people's feelings."

Brennan sighed regretfully, "Like I did with Dr. Filmore."

"You didn't mean to hurt him, Bones," Booth said reassuringly, "And you couldn't have known he would have that psycho whatever reaction in his arm."

"Psychosomatic," Brennan interjected, her fingers fiddling with the label of her beer bottle. "I really didn't mean for him to suffer like that, and my apology and acknowledgement of his contribution to the case were genuine."

Booth nodded and smiled, "I know they were, Bones."

Brennan sighed heavily and pushed her drink aside, her eyes downcast. "I hate when I do that," she said softly.

"What?" Booth leant forward on his bar stool. Brennan lifted her gaze back to his face and he was struck by the pain and regret evident in her expression.

"When I hurt people with the things that I say. I don't know how to censor my thoughts, Booth. What I intend as honesty is often interpreted as rudeness, or at best tactless commentary on a situation."

Booth sighed inwardly. While he wanted desperately to reassure her and disagree with her assessment, he couldn't deny that her comments did often cause offense to those they were directed towards. He had felt the sting of such comments himself numerous times over the years. Mostly he just shrugged them off, knowing they were not intended to be hurtful, but that wasn't always easy.

As if sensing his thoughts, Brennan continued, her voice hushed in remorse, "I especially hate when I say something which causes you pain."

Looking to head off a conversation they might not be ready for, Booth smiled, "Hey, Bones, I know you never mean to hurt me. It's okay."

Brennan shook her head and spoke more forcibly, "No, it's not, Booth. It's not okay."

Booth leant back and sighed audibly, knowing how tenacious she could be when she wanted to discuss something.

"Like when I kept drawing similarities between you and Broadsky. I never meant to imply that you were similar from a moral standpoint or that I believed you would ever behave in such a reprehensible manner, but I know I offended you with my observations."

Booth's features settled into a somber expression. He couldn't deny it. She had hurt him. So much so that he had felt compelled to discuss the situation with Sweets who had recommended that he talk about it with Brennan. This, of course, he had neglected to do. His feelings had still been too raw after Hannah's rejection to entertain the thought of having a serious emotional discussion with his partner. Instead he had allowed her to clarify her statements in simplistic terms before quickly lightening the mood with a joke.

Brennan read the expression on his face and looked down at her fingers as they fidgeted with her mother's ring. A thin veil of tears formed over her eyes as she took a deep breath to steady herself.

"I'm sorry, Booth. I feel very contrite about the things that I said."

Booth hated to see her so visibly upset. He reached forward and placed his hand over hers, stilling their anxious movements and causing her to meet his gaze.

"Yes, you did hurt me, Bones, but only because what you think of me is so important to me. I still struggle with the things that I had to do when I was a sniper. Even though I know my actions saved lives, those actions are still hard to live with."

Brennan nodded, listening intently. Knowing how difficult it was for Booth to discuss his past with anyone, she had always felt honored that he felt he could confide in her, even if she didn't always express that to him.

Booth sighed and rubbed his chin with his free hand, struggling to articulate his feelings in a way he thought Brennan would understand. "I know you were just saying what you saw, but at the time it felt like you were judging me by the same standards as Broadsky, and I couldn't stand you thinking that I was like him."

He locked eyes with hers, willing her to grasp how much his next words meant to him. "I just … I need you to know that I'm a good man. That I'll always try to do the right thing. That I'm worthy of your …," he hesitated and Brennan's breath hitched in her throat, her face forming into a hopeful expression despite her efforts to stop it. Booth shifted in his seat and felt the familiar brush of the poker chip in his pocket against his thigh, the reminder of his past as a gambler which he always kept with him.

_Dammit_, he cursed silently to himself. He hadn't meant to go down this road. Suddenly nervous he tried to pull his eyes away, but the weight of Brennan's expectant gaze held him there, like an ancient insect caught in amber. The same hope he had seen when she had confessed her feelings after the Lauren Eames case was present in her eyes now. He wanted so desperately to satisfy that hope, to tell her that what he needed her to know most of all was that he was worthy of her love. But he couldn't do that. Not yet.

Over the weeks since Hannah had left his anger had coalesced into a mass of shame and guilt which was directed solely at himself. He had known Hannah never wanted to get married yet he had proposed anyway, then immediately expelled her from his life as soon as she had shattered his ideal of the perfect romance that he had been seeking since he met Rebecca. He could barely handle the flood of regret he felt when he was forced to acknowledge that his whole relationship with Hannah had been about one thing – proving he could be happy with someone other than Brennan.

His stomach twisted as he recalled his response to her confession. _"Hannah, she's not a consolation prize. I love her. The last thing I want to do is hurt you but those are the facts."_

His effort to move on was something he could forgive himself for. He had felt left with little choice after Brennan's refusal to give a relationship between them a try. When he had first met Hannah her reckless determination to get to the truth had reminded him of Brennan and he had been swept away by the welcome distraction she provided. What should have ended there in the deserts of Afghanistan had followed him back to DC and he hadn't been strong enough to turn Hannah away. Not when he still believed she might be his only chance at happiness.

It was easy to look back and say that he should have broken things off as soon as Brennan had told him how she felt, but how could he have cast Hannah aside when he had spent months trying to convince himself and everyone around him that he loved her, that she wasn't merely his second choice? Ending things then would have invalidated the whole relationship, and he had no desire to be the guy who used one woman while he waited for another to finally decide she wanted him.

Sweets would probably tell him that he had rushed into proposing to Hannah so that she would provide him with the perfect excuse to end things and allow him to lay the blame at her feet instead of his own where it belonged. If anyone should be feeling contrite, he thought sadly, it was him. Whatever his motivations might have been, one thing was for certain. He had managed to hurt two people he cared about and it would take some time before he could be the man that he knew Brennan deserved. Someone worthy of her respect as well as her love.

Brennan's thoughts were a whirl of anxious emotion as she waited for Booth to speak again. She couldn't deny that part of her wanted the next word out of his mouth to be "love", but there was still a part of her which clung to the imperviousness which had protected her for so long. As she had done so many times before, she put her faith in Booth that he would steer them through these murky emotional waters.

Booth's hand suddenly tightened over Brennan's and he took a deep breath, "I want you to know that I'm worthy of your respect."

The tension of the moment broken, Brennan sighed in either relief or disappointment – she couldn't tell which. Perhaps it was both. Either way, Booth clearly wasn't ready to openly discuss their relationship, and, she had to admit, neither was she. It felt as though they were suspended at the edge of a precipice; the anticipation of the fall was exhilarating yet countered by the fear that they might not be able to fly once they leapt over the edge. She smiled slightly to herself as she recalled the end of the story she had read to Booth while he was in a coma.

_You love someone. You open yourself up to suffering. Maybe they'll break your heart; maybe you'll break their heart and never be able to look at yourself in the same way. Those are the risks. The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden. Burdens that allow us to fly."_

Those words held more weight now than they had when she had written them over two years ago. Since then she had broken Booth's heart and he had broken hers. They had rejected each other, run away from each other, and come back to each other. She had acknowledged, if only to herself, that her happiness was now contingent upon his. That was indeed an undeniable burden for someone who had always been so independent, but for the first time in her life Temperance Brennan was willing to bear that burden if it meant having a life with Booth.

A spark of apprehension had appeared in Booth's eyes when she hadn't immediately responded. Rushing to reassure him Brennan leant forward and pulled her clasped hands from beneath his so she could grasp his hand more firmly.

"You have always had my respect, Booth, and you always will. You don't need to prove anything to me."

Her words, spoken with a soft sincerity, sent a flood of relief coursing through him, momentarily diffusing his inner anger and causing a grateful smile to spread across his lips. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin of her palm as he replied, "Thanks, Bones. That means a lot."

Brennan smiled in return and nodded slowly, for once having no trouble understanding the subtle subtext of their conversation. They sat like that for a few moments, relishing the reaffirmed bond between them and the promise of the future. Booth was the first to pull away, giving Brennan's hand one last squeeze before he sat back and took a large drink from his beer. Brennan did the same and they sat in companionable silence for several minutes before Booth spoke again.

"So, about my socks."

"Yes?" Brennan drawled.

"They happen to be my own way of harmlessly rebelling against authority."

"You're paraphrasing Dr. Gordon Gordon Wyatt," Brennan countered.

"Ah!" Booth corrected her, "You mean _Chef_ Gordon Gordon Wyatt."

"Of course," Brennan acknowledged, "I still think they're rather foolish."

Booth chuckled and raised his hands in the air, "Hey, if you'd rather I go back to shooting clowns then –"

"No!" Brennan interjected, "I can tolerate your ostentatious socks. They are, after all, part of your personality and I would not ask you to change that."

Booth grinned, "Thanks, Bones. I appreciate the sacrifice," suddenly he leant back and lifted his leg into the air, pulling his pant leg up to reveal an array of colors arranged in stripes around his ankle, "but how can you think _these_ are silly?"

Brennan could only shake her head and smile. There were some things about Booth that she would never understand, but that didn't matter. She loved him anyway. Him and his ridiculous socks.

**Well I planned and I planned how this chapter was going to go and then it went and wandered off in a totally different direction than I had intended, but I'm okay with that. The crux of this story is that I don't believe that all the issues which had kept Booth and Brennan apart for so long suddenly disappeared when Broadsky killed Vincent. I always wanted to see them work through them first so that when they finally came together there would be no "pachyderms in the room" to get in the way. I hope you'll all continue to follow them while they do that. **

**Reviews work better than caffeine at keeping me writing so please let me know your thoughts. They really mean a lot to me. Thank you. **


	3. The Truth in the Myth

**Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites and reviews for the last chapter. I am grateful for each and every one of them. I was hoping to be able to post more than one chapter per week but so far that hasn't worked out. At the moment I have to drive three hours every day (round trip) to get to and from work which is exhausting, so I'm finding it difficult to write on weeknights, but I'm going to try and write more at the weekends to make up for it. This chapter is longer than the others so I'm hoping you'll forgive me for making you wait!**

**This chapter takes up shortly after the end of The Truth in the Myth. **

Booth entered his apartment and dropped his keys on the counter. He was just returning home from drinks with Bones and the squints to celebrate the closing of another case. He had been preoccupied ever since leaving the bar, his mind so focused on his inner thoughts that the cab driver had needed to repeat the fare twice before Booth had registered it. Before heading home he had stood on the sidewalk and watched as Brennan had been driven away in a cab. She had turned her head and smiled at him through the rear window, an action which had immediately shaken free a painful memory he had tried so hard to bury. After removing his jacket and seating himself on the couch, Booth allowed his thoughts to wander.

Over a year ago when they had finally seen justice done on Heather Taffet, they had stood in the same spot outside The Founding Fathers. He had taken her hand and tried to convince her to go back inside for another drink. She had refused and climbed into a cab. As he had watched her being driven away, she had turned around and looked back at him just as she had done earlier that night. Only then there had been no smile, no cheeky little wave like the one she had given him during their first case the night she had refused to sleep with him. Instead, she had looked at him with nothing but sadness. He had felt his blood run cold then, the sight compounding the fear her earlier words had caused.

"_I might need more than a little time."_

The Taffet case had drained her, had drained all of them, but for her it had been more than that. She needed a break. A few weeks later the Maluku project had provided her with exactly that and she had taken the opportunity to get as far away from their partnership as she could. In his heart he knew it wasn't the crime and murder she was running from, it was him. He had backed her into a corner with his insistence that they try and make a relationship work. Having allowed himself to be swept up in the past and Sweets' encouragement, he had gotten it so wrong and missed what should have been obvious to someone who supposedly knew her so well.

She had needed his patience and understanding – and he hadn't given it to her.

How must it have felt for her, that night outside the Hoover? To have him immediately tell her he had to move on, to make her doubt, even for a few moments, that their partnership might be over too. That he, with all his gut instincts and ability to read people, couldn't see that the woman he knew better than anyone else needed him to stop and listen. To understand her and the fears that lay behind every word of her rejection. Rushing into it like he had must have felt like an assault. She had thought she could trust him with her emotions, thought he knew that love wasn't easy for her because all it had ever given her was pain. He had broken her trust and her heart in the worst gamble of his life.

With bitter regret, Booth had to admit to the pattern of his own behavior. His relationship with Rebecca had ended the moment she had refused to marry him. He had turned on Hannah too the instant she had rejected him. Was this the kind of man he was? A man who loved a woman and gave of himself only as long as she conformed to his ideal of a perfect relationship? Booth didn't want to dwell on that thought, but he knew one thing for certain. Even if he had been that man in the past, he didn't want to be anymore. He was in love with a woman who didn't believe in marriage, who trusted science over emotion and evidence over things unseen. If he wanted to be with her, he had to accept those things and not try to force her to change. To love her for who she really was, not the idealized version he had allowed himself to imagine he could convince her to be.

The urge to go and tell her this was suddenly so overwhelming that Booth launched himself to his feet and grabbed his coat and keys. He was out the door and on his way before he could talk himself out of it.

***)()()()(***

Brennan hummed quietly to herself as she changed out of her work outfit and into some more comfortable clothes. It had been an interesting case which had been solved to her satisfaction, and she had enjoyed the evening celebrating with her friends. Though she was content with the events of the day, one thought kept nagging at her even as she tried to relax and ignore it. During the case while they had been discussing cryptozoology in the diner, Booth had claimed to have once seen a yeti in Nepal. Brennan had immediately dismissed the notion as ridiculous, to which Booth had responded by saying that she was no different from the people who were once certain that the sun revolved around the earth.

That comment had bothered her more than she cared to admit. It implied that Booth believed she was incapable of change and so rigid in her beliefs that there could never be any compromise between them. Although she didn't know much about relationships, Brennan worried that this could prove to be an obstacle in forming the relationship they had been working towards since the night of the blackout. As she moved methodically around her bedroom putting her work clothes away, Brennan pondered how best to broach this topic with Booth.

Though they had agreed to give a romantic relationship between them a chance once they were both ready, it was still difficult for her to openly discuss her feelings and she had found herself relying on Booth to raise any issues pertinent to their future. Perhaps, she mused, this was a flawed approach. If they were to ever become a couple, they would need to enter into the relationship as equals, and so logically she should express her own concerns as well as allowing him to express his, as he had done when discussing her observations about he and Broadsky.

Having finished in her bedroom, Brennan was en route to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water when she heard a knock at her door. Given that she had just seen everyone less than an hour before, she was confused as to who could be calling at this hour. As she made her way to the door she silently hoped that it wasn't her father coming to tell her he had run afoul of the law again.

Opening the door she was surprised to see the identity of her visitor.

"Booth, what are you doing here? Did you forget some paperwork for the case?"

Booth froze, realizing that in his haste to get to Brennan's apartment he hadn't bothered to come up with a reasonable excuse for dropping by. He quickly ran through the events of the day trying to think of something while Brennan stared at him curiously. Suddenly remembering that she had told him about keeping her TV in her closet, Booth exclaimed, "I … uh … your TV! I was thinking it's criminal that you're just keeping it in your closet. That's just wrong, I mean, think of all the great shows you're missing! And you're always saying that you don't understand pop culture references, right? Well, maybe you would if you tuned in every once in a while."

The frown on Brennan's face let him know that he was rambling. Suddenly embarrassed, Booth flashed his trademark charm smile hoping that Brennan would just let him inside without questioning him further.

"Um, sure. Okay." Brennan stepped aside and allowed Booth to enter her apartment.

_Whew,_ he thought, _that was a close one._

"Would you like a beer first?" Brennan asked as she headed for the kitchen.

"Yeah, thanks, Bones." Booth replied as he hung up his jacket on the coat rack. Subconsciously he slipped his hand into his pocket to feel the rounded edge of his poker chip, the constant reminder of his struggle with his gambling addiction. Now that he was actually here and the rush of adrenaline that had propelled from his couch to Brennan's apartment had worn off, Booth found himself feeling nervous and unsure. Just because he had had an epiphany didn't mean Brennan was ready to hear it. As he watched her move about the kitchen he was suddenly gripped by the fear that he might scare her off again. That his revelations might be too much for her to process and would only make her feel pressured and rushed.

His frantic thoughts were interrupted by Brennan handing him his beer. He shook his head to clear it and followed her over to the couch. As he was trying to figure out what to say, Brennan's voice drew his attention.

"I'm actually glad you came over tonight, Booth. There is something I wish to discuss with you."

Booth's feeling of unease increased as she took a seat beside him. He took a healthy gulp of his drink in an attempt to steady his nerves as he waited for Brennan to continue.

"I am …," she paused for a moment as if searching for the right word amidst her extensive vocabulary, "… troubled, by something you said to me earlier today."

_Uh oh_, Booth thought to himself, his fingers itching to reach back into his pocket for the poker chip.

Brennan, meanwhile, seemed to be choosing her words very carefully, as if each one were a bone she had to carefully examine before finally presenting her findings. Placing her beer on the coffee table, she turned to face him, "You claimed that I am no different from those ignorant people who once believed beyond any doubt that the sun revolved around the earth, thus implying that I am rigid in my own beliefs and incapable of evolving my opinions."

Booth shifted slightly in his seat, guilt making its second appearance of the evening. Just as he was about to go off on an inner tirade against his own insensitivity, Brennan spoke again, looking directly into his eyes the way she did when she was stating something she believed to be irrefutably true.

"It is very important to me that you understand that your observation is incorrect. During the years we have known each other my opinions on various topics have changed considerably, or at least have evolved to acknowledge opposing viewpoints."

"Listen, Bones," Booth interrupted, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so insensitive."

Brennan shook her head and held up her hand to stop him, "I appreciate that, Booth, however I was not seeking your apology."

Confusion clouded Booth's features, "Then, why did you …?"

"Because … because I needed you to know, to understand that I …," her earlier composure seeming to have abandoned her, Brennan twisted her hands in her lap and glanced nervously around the room, as if hoping the words she sought would somehow materialize amongst the sculptures and art pieces that adorned her apartment.

Seeing her nervousness, Booth put his beer aside and grasped her hands, pulling her attention back to his face. "What is it, Bones? What are you trying to say?"

Taking a deep breath, Brennan answered, "I need you to know that what I said in my toast to Jared and Padme last year is still what I believe."

That particular speech having been seared into his memory, it took Booth only seconds to recall what she had said.

"_When Booth and I first met, I did not believe that such a thing as love existed. I maintained that it was simply brain chemistry. But perhaps Booth is correct. Perhaps love comes first and creates the reaction. I have no tangible proof, but I'm willing to accept Booth's premise."_

His heart was pounding in his chest as he realized what she was trying to tell him. She still believed in love even after all he had put her through. Even after the fallacy of his relationship with Hannah which he had claimed was based on love. Even after he had given her every reason to believe she had missed her chance to be with him. In the presence of significant evidence to the contrary, Brennan still had faith in him and the intangible nature of love.

Booth glanced down at their joined hands and smiled broadly, sending up a silent prayer of thanks as the intensity of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Looking back up into her face he said the only thing he could force past the lump which had suddenly formed in his throat.

"I'm really glad to hear that, Bones. Really glad."

A broad grin spread across Brennan's face at his response as she squeezed his hands in hers. They sat silently for a few minutes, each taking the time to absorb the significance of what had just passed between them. As Booth felt his heartrate return to normal, he realized there was something else he needed to say. Squeezing her hands gently, Booth locked gazes with hers, attempting to convey the importance of his next words.

"Tonight when you were getting into the cab and I said we didn't make any sense, that we weren't explainable …"

"Explicable," Brennan corrected gently, just as she had outside The Founding Fathers earlier that evening.

"Yeah," Booth continued, amused at her insistence on correcting him. "What I wanted to say was that I actually think that's a good thing. Sure, we see a lot of things differently and sometimes our beliefs clash, but maybe that's why we work so well together. We complement each other and make each other better, you know?"

Brennan nodded, transfixed by the intensity of Booth's expression and the sincerity of his words.

"It doesn't matter to me that you don't believe in God, or that you need evidence while I trust my gut to tell me things. That's okay, because it works for us. My opinions have evolved through knowing you too, Bones, and I'm not the same man I was when we first met. I'm so grateful to you for that, for challenging me and always telling me the truth, even when I don't want to hear it."

Booth's voice had taken on a passionate tone that Brennan had rarely heard and she couldn't stop her eyes from filling with tears as he said the words he should have said that night outside the Hoover building.

"I don't want you to change, Bones. You don't have to. We work perfectly well just the way we are."

"Really?" she asked hesitantly, desperate to believe him but still needing some final reassurance.

"Really," he replied definitively.

A feeling of relief so profound it took her breath away rushed through Brennan as she let his words envelop her. The tears she had fought to hold back fell from her eyes and she squeezed Booth's hands tightly between hers to anchor herself. She had always believed that they were too different, that she didn't have the kind of open heart that Booth needed to be happy. She had worried for so long that this fact would forever keep them apart, but Booth's words and the undeniable sincerity behind them had finally laid her fears to rest.

After taking a few moments to compose herself, a slow but genuine smile spread across her face as she asked softly, "You didn't really come here to set up my TV, did you?"

Booth smiled guiltily and admitted, "No, I didn't. I'm sorry for lying to you."

"It is not necessary for you to fabricate a reason to see me, Booth," Brennan said reassuringly, "I enjoy your company very much and if you wish to spend time with me, you only have to ask."

"Thanks, Bones," Booth replied gratefully, "I'll remember that."

If asked, neither of them could have said for certain which one of them moved first. All they knew was that they found themselves enveloped in a tight embrace that was filled with still unspoken love and a promise for the future. Two pairs of eyes fell closed as they focused completely on the feeling of their arms around each other, the first hug they had shared since their first night back in D.C. and one which was desperately needed by both.

Pulling apart after a few minutes, their gazes locked for a final time before they allowed the intensity of their conversation to give way to the comfortable companionship they were accustomed to. The first to break the silence, Booth retrieved his beer from the coffee table and sat back against the couch cushions.

"You know, Bones, I would still like to set up your TV for you. There are a ton of great shows out there. I'm sure we could find something you would like. Maybe a documentary series?"

Brennan's face lit up, "Oh! Like The Jersey Shore. I learned a lot about the Guido subculture from that series."

Booth chuckled as he remembered how she had put her knowledge to use in a case involving the reality show stars earlier that year.

"Yeah, Bones, that wasn't a documentary. It was a reality TV show."

Brennan frowned, "By definition the word 'reality' implies that what is depicted on the show is factual rather than fictional, therefore I believe it falls within the documentary genre."

"Yeah, but …" Booth shook his head and smiled, resigning himself to once again educating Brennan on the peculiarities of popular culture.

**This chapter was completely out of control the whole time I was writing it. The ideas and emotions were flowing so fast that at one point I was jumping about between three different sections to make sure I got everything down. I hope it didn't read as scattered as it was written! I'll do my best to get the next chapter up a bit faster this time. Our favorite pair still have some things to work through, although that was a pretty big one they just had! I would love to hear your thoughts so please leave a review, even if it's just to tell me to hurry the hell up with the next installment! Thank you for reading. **


	4. The Finder

**Well this chapter brings us to the halfway point of this story. Thank you to everyone who has been reading so far and especially to those of you who have been kind enough to leave reviews. I really hate to keep you guys waiting but real life can be annoyingly demanding at times! I hope you'll bear with me. **

**I would like to say a special thank you to bountypeaches for her continued support of this story and for sharing her insightful observations about season six. Discussing the show and my stories with readers is part of the fun of writing for me, so I'll always be happy to chat if any of you feel like it. ****:-) **

**This chapter takes up right after The Finder fades out. **

Brennan chuckled and reached again for her beer as Booth continued to justify his dislike of Walter Sherman and his finder power. Though it was normal for them to share a celebratory drink together after solving a case, tonight felt different somehow.

They had recently talked openly about their relationship for the first time since Hannah's departure. It had been an honest and liberating discussion and had finally laid to rest fears and insecurities they had both been harboring for a long time. At the end of their conversation Brennan had assured Booth that he needn't ever make up excuses to spend time with her, and it seemed that Booth had taken this to heart.

Since that night Brennan had noticed subtle changes in the way Booth acted around her. It was as though he had a new found confidence and was much more relaxed in her presence. Twice in the last week he had shown up unannounced at her apartment with Thai food and a big grin on his face. He hadn't offered an explanation and she hadn't requested one. He had wanted to see her and she was glad of his company. It was as simple as that.

Deciding to assert her own confidence in the more relaxed state of their relationship, Brennan had asked if Booth was still interested in attending a war-themed lecture at the Jeffersonian. They had intended to go to one on the Peloponnesian War a few months previously until Broadsky's return had derailed their plans. Booth's initial response to her request had been to sheepishly admit that the lecture had been another excuse to spend time with her, since at the time he had still felt awkward and unsure around her after Hannah's departure.

The knowledge that such awkwardness and uncertainty no longer existed between them was wonderful and had stirred within Brennan the now familiar feelings of comfort and security she associated with Booth. Not content to let him get away with another of his white lies, however, she had insisted that he come along to at least one lecture. Booth had feigned resistance to the idea before finally agreeing, secretly delighted that Brennan had asked him in the first place. The visiting professor who had given the first lecture on the Peloponnesian War was returning for a follow up lecture on Ancient Greek warfare next week, and Brennan was already looking forward to sharing her love of history with her partner – whether he liked it or not.

Brennan's thoughts returned to the present just as Booth was finishing his anti-Walter tirade. Since he had revealed the reason for his animosity towards the Finder, Brennan had been considering pointing out an obvious similarity between the two men which Booth had seemingly overlooked. Her reluctance to do so was driven by the desire not to offend him in the way she had when she had compared him to Broadsky.

"You've got your thinking face on."

"What?" Brennan asked, having been startled out of her reverie by Booth's abrupt observation.

"Your thinking face. You know, the one you get when you're rolling an idea around in your head and trying to decide whether you should say it or not."

Brennan flushed, both embarrassed and gratified that he knew her so well. Booth leaned forward and looked at her intently.

"Hey," he said reassuringly, "you can tell me anything, remember? Even if you think I won't want to hear it."

"Okay," Brennan smiled as she recalled how recently he had so passionately assured her of how grateful he was that she always told him the truth.

"I cannot help but see a significant similarity between you and Walter."

_Oh God, here we go again_, Booth thought, bracing himself for another comparison between himself and someone else he didn't trust.

Unaware of Booth's trepidation, Brennan forged ahead, "Just as Walter allowed you to hold your newborn child before he arrested you, you also allowed Russ to visit his sick step-daughter in the hospital before you arrested him for violating parole."

Booth was caught completely off guard. He had never considered that before. As usual, his brilliant partner had seen something he had been completely oblivious to.

"Furthermore," Brennan continued, "you even lied to Caroline about where you had arrested Russ to allow him more time with Hayley. It seems to me that both you and Walter looked the other way, as you put it, out of compassion and empathy for your arrestee's situation. Is that not so?"

_Well damn_, Booth thought to himself, _if she didn't just compliment me and prove me wrong at the same time. _Glancing down at the rediscovered medal he had hung around her neck earlier, Booth couldn't help but think that a science fair was the least of the things Brennan deserved a medal for.

Smiling broadly, Booth replied, "You're amazing, Bones. You really are."

A nervous yet proud smile lit up her features, "I was merely stating an observation, Booth. There's nothing amazing about that."

"Oh, but there is," Booth insisted. "You've made me face up to a truth I've been denying and made me a better person for it, just like you always do. I can't deny that a part of me will always think Walter was a son of a bitch for taking me away from Parker when he was only a few minutes old, but I guess I did something similar to Russ, and he doesn't hold it against me anymore, right?"

"No," Brennan confirmed, "he doesn't. Russ understands that you were only doing your job, just as Walter was."

Booth sighed and his voice took on a regretful tone, "Maybe I need to get better at forgiving people. I hold onto anger way too often."

Brennan looked away from him then as she felt a stab of pain at the memory of how it had felt to have that anger directed at her. It had been heart crushing to watch Booth in so much distress the night Hannah had left but be unable to penetrate the shield his anger had erected and offer him the comfort she had so desperately wanted to give.

Taking a deep breath, Brennan slowly drew her gaze back to Booth's face. He was staring at her intently, a look of worry and regret etched on his features. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He was thinking it too. He had been so angry at both Brennan and Hannah that night, and later at himself for allowing things to get that far. The fear of turning into his father was never far from his mind, and every surge of anger he felt only intensified that fear. He didn't want to be angry anymore, but he wasn't quite ready to forgive himself for the mistakes of the past year.

Forcing himself not to look away from her, Booth watched as Brennan seemed to gather herself. Her thinking face was back, he noted, and so opted to take a drink of his beer and give her a few moments to process her thoughts.

Finally, Brennan spoke, "While that is a worthwhile goal, Booth, please do not be too hard on yourself. Forgiveness is not easy to achieve and anger can be an excellent motivator in changing one's behavior, especially if that anger is directed towards oneself."

_It sure as hell can_, Booth thought ruefully.

"I speak from experience," Brennan added softly.

Booth flinched, misunderstanding her meaning. Brennan noticed the change and rushed to reassure him, "I was referring to myself, Booth, not you."

Booth frowned, confused as to what Brennan could be angry with herself for. After all, it had been him who had brought Hannah into their lives and caused so many problems.

"I don't understand, Bones. Why would you be angry with yourself?"

Brennan sniffed as she tried to hold back the tears that had started to form as she dwelled on her own regrets. "Because I made a mistake."

_Oh_, Booth realized immediately what she was referring to. The last time she had said those words to him was in his car after the Lauren Eames case, right before she had revealed she had been wrong to reject him when he had wanted to give a relationship a chance. Having thought about that night more times than he could count, Booth already knew how to respond to Brennan's self-recrimination.

"No you didn't, Bones," he asserted firmly, "I did."

Confusion clouded Brennan's features as Booth searched for a way to explain himself. He had to make her understand. Had to make her realize that it wasn't her fault. That she wasn't the one to blame.

"You know that saying, 'fools rush in where angels fear to tread'?" Brennan nodded, she had actually heard that one before, although she was uncertain as to its relevance to the current conversation.

"Well," Booth continued, "I was a damned fool that night, Bones. You weren't ready and I should never have pushed you like that. You tried to tell me why you thought we wouldn't work and I just didn't listen. I wish to God I had, Bones. That I had told you then that I never want you to change who you are for me. Maybe it wouldn't have made any difference back then, maybe it was still too soon for us, but it's still what I should have said. I'm so sorry, Bones."

"Booth," so overwhelmed by his words and still fighting a futile battle against her tears, Brennan could only breathe out Booth's name in response.

Taking one of her hands in his, Booth lifted his other hand to her cheek and brushed away an errant tear that she had been unable to hold back.

"The only mistake you ever made was thinking you could never be enough for me. I hope you can forgive me for letting you believe that."

Giving up the fight Brennan allowed her tears to fall as the world around her seemed to fade into a blurry mass of color and sound, until Booth and the feel of his touch were her only source of clarity. Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking, yet she had never felt so safe in all her life. Knowing that she needed to respond, Brennan took a shaky breath in and laid her hand over his, pressing it more firmly against her cheek.

"I never blamed you, Booth. Perhaps I should have, but that no longer matters. We are here, now, and we need to forgive ourselves if we are to move forward into the future we both want."

Lowering his hand gently from her cheek and grasping it tightly, Brennan allowed all the emotions moving within her to show openly on her face, feeling the last vestiges of her imperviousness begin to crumble.

"I want you to forgive yourself, Booth. I need you to."

Booth, close to tears himself, brought Brennan's hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.

"I'll work on it, Bones. I promise."

Brennan smiled and nodded, "As will I."

They stayed like that for several minutes. Their hands remained joined where they now rested comfortably on the bar next to their mostly untouched beers. Brennan shifted slightly in her seat and the light from the overhead lamps caught the medal around her neck, making it appear to sparkle.

Booth finally broke the silence, stroking his thumb gently across her skin, "I'm really glad you got your medal back, Bones. I know how much it means to you."

"Thanks, Booth," Brennan replied, "however, as Walter pointed out, the real treasure was something else entirely."

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a newspaper clipping and handed it to Booth. The image of a young Brennan and her mother celebrating her science fair win smiled back at him, drawing a corresponding smile from him in return. He understood completely why this would mean more to her than the medal itself.

"That's great, Bones," Booth said, handing it back to her.

Repocketing the article, Brennan asked, "I realize that you would never do so but, speaking hypothetically, what would you ask Walter to find for you?"

Booth thought about it for a moment as a number of items flashed through his mind. His first baseball glove that his father had confiscated as punishment for defying him; a gaudy belt buckle he had owned in college before he lost it and got the cocky one instead; one of his favorite Flyers shirts that he had managed to misplace. All things that had meant something to him once but now seemed trivial compared to what he had found in the woman sitting beside him.

Finally coming to a decision, Booth replied, "I wouldn't ask him to find anything, Bones. Sure, I've lost things over the years, but they're just things. I can live without them."

Squeezing the hand he still held in his, Booth continued, "Besides, I think I've already found what I've been looking for."

Brennan smiled and replied softly, "I know exactly what you mean."

Unnoticed by the pair, the bartender smiled to himself at the sight of two of his regulars having such an intimate moment. Having been witness to so many of their conversations over the years, he was glad to see them apparently moving closer to the inevitable. _It's about damned time_, he thought to himself.

**Well it seems that all my chapter plans were a complete waste of time as this has been yet another one that has ended up being completely different than what I expected. I didn't intend for things to get so emotional again at this stage, as we had that in chapter 3, but I guess Booth and Brennan had other ideas. I would love to know your thoughts. Are things progressing too fast? Not fast enough? Let me know!**

**There is one thing that's bugging me about The Finder episode which I want to put out there. As lovely as that scene is when Brennan gets her medal back, I can't help but think that it would have been irresponsible of her parents to allow that picture to appear in the paper considering they were in hiding and trying to keep a low profile. Either law enforcement or the likes of Vince McVicar could have seen it and found them easily since the article names Brennan's school. Does this bother anybody else, or am I just nitpicking? **


	5. The Pinocchio in the Planter

**As always a huge thank you to everyone who has been reading this story and to those of you who have followed, favorited and especially reviewed it so far, I really appreciate your feedback. Thanks to the good old Scottish snow I've been working from home this week and using my usual commuting time to write instead so I finally managed to give you a mid-week chapter! **

**In regards to my little gripe at the end of the last chapter, the consensus seems to be that it doesn't make sense for Brennan's parents to have allowed the photo to be printed. Even though they already had new identities by that point and Brennan was a baby when they went into hiding (and so would be unrecognizable at 11 years old) as far as we know her mother still looked the same and could have been recognized by their former gang or law enforcement. Max said in season 9 that they didn't give Brennan birthday parties when she was a child because they didn't want to draw attention to themselves, so I highly doubt that they would have been okay with a photo in the newspaper! It's a minor thing, I know, but this is what happens when I start analyzing episodes in order to write these chapters! **

**Anyway, on to more important things! This chapter takes up just after The Pinocchio in the Planter fades out. **

Laughter and the clinking of beer bottles sounded the successful end to another case. Seated at one of the small tables in The Founding Fathers, Booth and Brennan chuckled over the fate of a certain parole-violating clown who would no longer be terrorizing children's birthday parties. The case had centered around a radical honesty group and had led to quite a number of revelations amongst the Jeffersonian team – not least between the partners themselves. Asked by a typically persistent Brennan to reveal an instance in which he had lied to her, Booth had finally found the right time to tell her how much it had meant to him that she had supported him through the difficult night of Hannah's departure. Brennan had pointed out that this was technically a lie of omission rather than an outright lie, however Booth was still relieved to have finally been given the opportunity to express his gratitude to his partner.

As their laughter died down, Booth began to fiddle with the bowl of pretzels in front of him and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Something was nagging at him about the toast they had just made.

"_To things that we don't say."_

It had been his safe response to her assertion that "some things are better left unsaid". For a few moments after those words had left her lips it had looked as though she was hoping he might refute her claim. Something about the way she had held his gaze in those seconds had felt like a challenge, an invitation for continued honesty. He had hesitated, his eyes never leaving hers as he considered how to respond. He could feel the pachyderm in the room almost as though it was a physical presence and not a mere metaphor for the most important truth they had yet to express to each other. They were in love – but not ready to say it.

Certainly, they had made a lot of progress in their relationship since the night of the blackout and much had been said which had remained unspoken for far too long. And yet. Booth sighed to himself and risked a glance at Brennan across the table. She, too, seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, her gaze directed towards the artificial flame housed in a wine glass which served as the table's only decoration.

He could have imagined it, but he was sure he had seen a flash of disappointment cross her features right before he had changed the subject a few minutes earlier. Another avoidance tactic he was currently kicking himself for. She had been so insistent throughout the case that he give her an example of when he had lied to her, so it was certainly no stretch to assume that she would be open to further honest dialogue between them. So why hadn't he taken the bait? Why was it still so damn hard to verbalize his thoughts and feelings? It wasn't easy for her either, he knew, but she obviously wanted to try.

Straightening up in his seat and clearing his throat to gain Brennan's attention, Booth made a decision. They were standing at the edge of a precipice, so close to the edge that a few small steps would see them fall into the relationship that had been slowly forming for almost six years. He didn't know what would facilitate that final step, what event or revelation might give them that final push and drive the pachyderm out of their lives forever. All he did know was that here, tonight, he could help them take at least one of those small steps.

"You know, Bones, there's another lie of omission I probably should have admitted to a long time ago."

Brennan's face brightened immediately, giving Booth all the confirmation he needed that she did indeed desire to talk more openly. "There is?"

"Yeah," shuffling forward on his seat, Booth settled into the conversation.

"Do you remember, back in our first year of working together, when you beat up that gang leader in the FBI building?"

Brennan frowned in confusion, the subject of Booth's confession not being what she had expected.

"Yes, I remember. You are referring to Ramon Ortez, the leader of the Mara Muerte gang."

Booth smiled, of course she remembered. Brennan rarely forgot anything.

"Well, I guess you hurt the guy's pride as well as his nose, since he had a hit put out on you that same day."

"What?!" Brennan was understandably shocked. "Booth! How could you have kept this from me? Surely I had the right to know that my life was in danger!"

Booth's face hardened at the memory, "It wasn't in danger for long."

Brennan's eyes narrowed, "What is that supposed to mean? What did you do, Booth?"

"I took care of it," Booth stated simply, drawing out each syllable carefully in the hopes of ending Brennan's line of inquiry.

Brennan leant forward and fixed him with her piercing blue eyes, "That is not a satisfactory answer. I wish to know exactly how you 'took care of it.'"

Booth sighed. No such luck. "Look, Bones, it was no big deal. I just went over there to have a little chat with the guy and we came to an understanding, okay? That's why I missed the funeral."

Far from being placated by Booth's explanation, Brennan was even more irritated, "If it was really 'no big deal', as you say, then why did you neglect to inform me?"

"I was just trying to protect you!" Booth was becoming more than a little exasperated, "I took care of it and I didn't think you needed to know. I didn't want to scare you, that's all."

"In other words you allowed your alpha male tendencies to dominate your reasoning and concluded that I was not strong enough to handle the truth," Brennan stated bluntly.

_This is not turning out the way I planned_, Booth thought, unaware of the true source of Brennan's anger and trying desperately to regain control of the discussion.

"Of course that's not what I thought. I'm your partner and I was looking out for you. That's all. I'm sorry if that offends you." Booth sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration, "Look, it's not that I thought you couldn't handle it, it's just … God, Bones, you really scared me that day. I know Ortez provoked you but he was a hardass gangbanger for God's sake! You can't go around messing with guys like that. You're too reckless sometimes."

Brennan's gaze hardened as her voice took on a more defensive tone, "And you are too overprotective. I am quite capable of defending myself, Booth."

"Yeah?" Booth's own ire was raised at her apparent disregard for her own safety, "Then why did I find myself on Mara Muerte's turf with my gun in the bastard's mouth, huh? How exactly were you planning on protecting yourself when five of his guys jumped in a car and did a drive by while you were walking down the street?"

Brennan sat back and folded her arms across her chest, squaring her jaw in defiance, "Perhaps if you had informed me of the threat in the first place then I would have been able to …"

"No, you wouldn't have, Bones," Booth cut her off, leaning forward and slamming his hand down on the table causing the beer bottles to rattle, "They would have found you, tortured you and killed you. They would have dumped your body somewhere and I never would have known what happened to you. All because you were reckless and couldn't just leave well enough alone!"

"And I suppose you have never been reckless, Booth?" Brennan was truly angry now, "What about the time you went off alone after Broadsky and almost got yourself killed in that explosion? Are you telling me that was not a reckless decision? You should have waited for me!"

"I didn't want to put you in danger, damn it!" Booth responded with equal anger, "Broadsky was my problem!"

"I am your partner, Booth! We protect each other. Your problems are my problems. It is arrogant and disrespectful for you to think otherwise. We are supposed to be equals!"

Their raised voices were beginning to attract the attention of the other patrons, not to mention that of the bartender who looked on with concern at his favorite regulars, sincerely hoping that he would not be forced to ask them to leave.

Feeling the reproachful gazes on them, Booth sighed and lowered his voice, "Of course we're equals, Bones. I admire how strong you are and I know I can depend on you one hundred percent to have my back when things get rough. But I can't help it that every time you put yourself in danger my heart goes into my throat."

"It is physically impossible for your heart to enter your throat, Booth," Brennan stated flatly.

"Damn it, Bones! You know what I mean!" Struggling to diffuse the situation, Booth leant forward and locked his eyes with hers, "I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you."

Brennan sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap, feeling completely deflated. She knew better than to doubt Booth's opinion of her, especially after their renewed closeness of the last few weeks, but she couldn't help the anger that surged within her at the mere suggestion that she might not be capable of protecting herself. When confronted with that prospect, she couldn't help but think of _him_, and those three days she had spent completely at his mercy.

His own anger having dissipated at the defeated look on her face, Booth reached for her hand and asked softly, "Why did you do it, Bones? You can't tell me that attacking a gang leader was a rational move."

Brennan shrugged and looked away, trying in vain to shake off his concern.

"Hey," Booth tugged gently on her hand to get her attention, "Where is all this coming from? I know my overprotectiveness annoys you at times, but it feels like there's something else going on. I want you to be honest with me."

Reluctantly pulling her gaze back to his, Brennan sighed and conceded that he was right. He deserved her honesty just as much as she deserved his. She took a deep breath and began to speak.

"During the year between our first case and when we became partners, I spent some time in El Salvador identifying victims of the death squads. One day I was in a tent with the remains of a girl, barely a teenager, who had been shot in the head and dumped into a well. A soldier came in and demanded that I stop. I refused."

_Of course you did_, Booth thought to himself, both proud and concerned at her actions.

"Two more soldiers entered the tent and put a bag over my head. They dragged me outside and then threw me into a filthy and windowless cell. I was kept there for three days and on every one of them the first soldier came in, held a gun to my head and made me believe he was going to kill me."

Now that she had decided to tell him what had happened the words were tumbling out of her, so Booth simply sat and listened, squeezing her hand every so often in encouragement and trying desperately to keep control of the anger which was growing in intensity as Brennan revealed more of her ordeal.

"He said that I would be just like that girl. That he would shoot me and toss me down a well so that no one would ever know who I was or what had happened to me. Ever since then I have been determined to never let anyone intimate me or control me through fear."

Booth nodded his head in understanding. With an effort he pushed his own anger and desire to hunt down the bastard who had done this to her aside and focused completely on what she needed from him.

Blinking back tears, Brennan added softly, "I need to know I can protect myself. However much faith I have in you to do so for me, I must also have that faith in myself. I can't change that part of myself, Booth. I won't."

Booth took a steadying breath as he gently caressed her hand with his thumb. Her earlier anger made complete sense to him now and he felt the weight of the significance of his next words.

Meeting her eyes he spoke with gentle sincerity, "I completely respect that, Bones. I really do. Your self-defense skills are seriously impressive and," he flashed his charm smile, "pretty hot, actually."

They both chuckled at the memory of Booth's appreciation of her punching Judge Hasty during their first case.

"I've made it clear that you don't ever have to change for me, and I mean that. All I'm asking is that you use that incredible brain of yours to judge the risks of certain situations a bit more carefully. You're the strongest woman I've ever met and you will never be weak to me, but I can't help feeling protective of you, Bones. That's just how it is when you ...," he caught himself just before the word he really meant slipped out, "… when you really care about someone."

A slow smile spread across Brennan's features, "Thank you, Booth. That means a great deal to me."

A corresponding smile lit up Booth's face as he sighed with relief and squeezed her hand more tightly, "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Bones. I can't stand the thought of you being hurt like that. I'm afraid it really riles up the alpha male in me, but that doesn't mean that I don't believe you can protect yourself or that you're not strong."

Brennan's smile widened as she squeezed his hand back, deeply touched by his words and his use of her terminology, "I very much appreciate that, Booth. I know it is in your nature to defend those you care about, and I would not wish that to change either. If I am honest, I actually find that particular quality of yours very appealing."

Booth's trademark cocky grin appeared at the much needed boost to his ego, "Thanks, Bones."

Brennan leant forward and locked gazes with Booth as she emphasized her final condition, "I am willing to tolerate your overprotectiveness, just so long as we can agree that from now on we will deal with any threats posed to either one of us together. As equals."

Booth smiled and nodded, "You've got a deal, Bones." After a moment's thought he couldn't help but add, "Just try not to piss off any more gangbangers, okay?"

Brennan rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, "While I cannot make any promises, I will endeavor to grant your request."

"Good enough," Booth acknowledged gratefully.

Unnoticed by the pair, the bartender smiled with relief from across the room as he placed a clean glass back onto the shelf. He watched as they finished the last of their drinks and headed for the exit, each hailing a cab once they were outside. In the short time it took for the cabs to appear, Booth turned to Brennan and pulled her into his arms. They held on for several moments until they slowly parted, smiling as they got into their respective cabs.

The bartender wasn't normally prone to observing his customers so intently, normally content to just serve them their drinks and keep his distance, but there was something about these two that drew his gaze each and every time they walked into the bar. Whether they were having an intense debate, an emotional discussion or just ideal chitchat, the affection and devotion between them was obvious. It was a rare thing, he knew, and he hoped that it would not be too much longer before they would allow themselves to embrace it.

_They'll get there eventually_, he assured himself, before turning his attention to his next customer.

**Right, that's it, I give up. These chapters are no longer under my control. I had planned to have Booth and Brennan have an honest (and calm) discussion about some of the things they had kept from each other, then the next thing I know they're fighting and causing a scene in the middle of The Founding Fathers. Booth's thought that "This is not turning out the way I planned" was really me trying to get a handle on what the hell was happening! I love the unpredictability of writing and the chapters seem to be working out so far, so I guess I should just let them off the leash and see where they take us. **

**I would love to know what you thought of this one. I'm someone who likes to plan everything so I get nervous when my writing goes off script, but then again that's often when the best ideas make themselves known. I hope that's the case this time. **

**In case anyone wasn't sure, the episode when Brennan beats up the gang leader and tells Angela about her kidnapping was season one's The Woman in the Garden. **

**Thank you all for reading and apologies for the longer than usual author notes! **


	6. The Signs in the Silence

**Thank you so much for the interest you guys have shown in this story. It makes me smile every time I get a new follow, favorite or review and you're all making me wish that I had come back to writing fanfiction a lot sooner. You can blame my muse for taking an extended vacation and refusing to come back when I called. She's here now though and happily messing with my plans and writing bits and pieces of chapters 7 and 8 before I've even finished chapter 6. She's a bit of a wild card that one. **

**I'm sorry this chapter is a few days late. It's been one of those weekends where I finally had to deal with all the real life tasks I had been putting off before they got on top of me (or before the laundry fell on top of me). It's also the longest chapter yet so it took some time to write. Since I posted two chapters last week I hope you'll forgive me! **

**This chapter takes up just after The Signs in the Silence fades out. **

**NB: Domestic violence is discussed in this chapter so please be mindful of that if you are sensitive to that topic. **

Their conversation slowly faded into silence as they each became lost in their own thoughts. The bright sunshine warmed their faces and enhanced the beauty of the roses and other flora which populated the park they were strolling through. They had just left Amy Shenfield, whose real name they now knew was Samantha, having a happy reunion with the parents she had been abducted from as a young child. The teenager and her tragic story had inspired the entire Jeffersonian team to find her real family and return her safely to them. The conclusions of their cases were rarely ever this gratifying and by rights the partners should have been uplifted and in the mood for celebrating.

Neither was, however.

Though delighted for Samantha and her family and deeply satisfied that they had delivered her from the torment and abuse she had suffered at the hands of Mike and Denise Shenfield, the deaf girl's case has raised demons from Booth and Brennan's pasts that refused to be put to rest.

In Mike Shenfield and his own violent response to the man, Booth had seen his father and the memories of the abuse he had suffered as a child. In fifteen-year-old Samantha, Brennan had seen herself at that age: a vulnerable and abandoned teenager left to fend for herself in the foster care system. Though they had never forgotten the traumas they had both experienced, they had found ways of coping in their daily lives which allowed them to push those memories into the dark corners of their minds where they were bearable. Cases like Samantha's made this task much harder, however.

Booth, for his part, couldn't stop replaying the incident in the interrogation room. When it looked like his wife was going to talk, Mike Shenfield had hit her. Before Booth could stop himself he had hauled the guy to his feet, shoved him up against the wall and punched him as Sweets looked on in shock. As the adrenaline of the moment had worn off, Booth had been confronted with feelings of shame and guilt over his loss of control. It didn't matter that the guy deserved it, as Brennan had reminded him earlier, and Booth knew that as a child abuser Shenfield could look forward to a lot worse in prison. What mattered was that, in a flash of anger, he had struck out violently. Just like his father.

Walking along beside him, Brennan was struggling with her own disquieting thoughts. Helping Samantha to rediscover her identity and witnessing her vulnerability had forced Brennan to remember her years as a foster child. Unwanted and painful memories she had fought for years to overcome invaded her mind even as she tried to block them out. Memories of being locked in the trunk of a car for accidentally breaking a dish; of never feeling truly loved or safe; of never being able to trust anyone. Though she had come so far and achieved so much since those awful years, Brennan couldn't deny how they still continued to impact her life. In spite of her hatred and distrust of psychology, she had to admit that the fears born of those experiences had been the primary motivator in her rejection of Booth's offer of a relationship.

She was pulled abruptly from her thoughts when Booth suddenly halted beside her.

"You know, Bones, we have some time before we need to get started on the case reports. It's a nice day and we just helped to reunite a family, why don't we sit and enjoy it for a while?"

"Okay," Brennan readily agreed, happy to be spending time with Booth and not eager to be alone with her thoughts until absolutely necessary.

They moved over to one of the many wrought iron benches which lined the grassy path and took a seat. Neither made mention of the fact that they chose to sit much closer to each other than normal, thighs and shoulders almost touching, in a subconscious desire to connect and shield themselves from their troubling thoughts.

As Booth shifted position to get more comfortable, Brennan's gaze was drawn to his right hand. She could see the faint bruises on his knuckles which were beginning to form as a result of him striking Mike Shenfield. It was likely Booth wasn't giving the slight discomfort a second thought, accustomed as he was to physical pain, but it still troubled Brennan to see them.

She felt Booth's gaze on her and raised her eyes to meet his. She flushed slightly at having been caught staring.

"Sorry, I was just … does it hurt?"

The question seemed banal even to her own ears but she had felt the need to ask it anyway. Booth rubbed his other hand over his knuckles as if trying to brush away the evidence of his outburst.

"It's nothing, I barely even feel it," he sighed and leaned back against the bench, "I've had a lot worse."

"I know you have," Brennan relied somberly.

Her tone caught Booth's attention. He knew that she must be thinking about all the times he had been tortured and wanted to reassure her.

"Look, Bones, I'm fine. Okay?"

"No," Brennan held his gaze determinedly, "you're not."

Booth sighed and tried to look away. He didn't want to go there now, even with Brennan. Some things were better left in the past. _If only they'd stay in the past_, he thought ruefully.

Unwilling to let him shrug it off this time, Brennan leant forward and placed her hand on his arm, forcing his eyes back to hers.

"Recently, we had a conversation about honesty. You asked me to be honest with you about why I irrationally attacked the leader of the Mara Muerte gang, to explain what I was feeling so that you could understand my motivations. You also agreed that we are equals, therefore I believe that I should expect the same level of honesty from you."

She was pushing him and they both knew it. Anyone else would have been shut down well before now, but Brennan had a way of forcing him to confront things he didn't want to face, of finding his weak points with an unnerving accuracy and probing at them until she found the evidence she was looking for.

"Booth," her voice took on a greater insistence as she squeezed his arm gently, "An equal relationship must surely be based on the mutual provision of support and understanding. I cannot help but notice how often you have offered comfort and reassurance to me while not accepting the same in return. I am afraid if we are to move forward in our relationship, I must insist that you do so."

Booth's breath caught briefly in his throat at her choice of words, knowing where Brennan was concerned such a choice would have been deliberate and not merely accidental. Relationship; not partnership. In her own way she was giving him an ultimatum about the future of a romantic relationship between them. As usual, she was right. He couldn't expect her to confide in him if he was unwilling to do the same in return.

Knowing how difficult this was for him, Brennan made one last plea, "I know you're hurting, Booth, and that hurts me too. Please talk to me. Let me help you."

Booth held her gaze and nodded slightly. Brennan smiled encouragingly as she gave him a few moments to collect himself. Finally, Booth took a deep breath and began to allow the pain brought about by the case to come to the surface.

"Shenfield's wife was going to talk, Sweets was getting to her and he couldn't let that happen. When he hit her I just lost it. It was like watching my dad hit my mom all over again and I just … I just lost it. He was on the floor before I even knew what I'd done, before I could stop myself."

"Your response frightened you," Brennan said gently.

"Of course it frightened me!" Booth exclaimed, becoming agitated as his emotions began to take hold, "I couldn't control myself. I didn't consciously decide to hit the guy, I just did it. You should have seen the look on Sweets' face, he couldn't believe it either, and I'm just standing there staring at this guy on the ground, trying to figure out what the hell had happened."

Brennan's brow was furrowed in concern at Booth's obvious distress, "Booth, it's not as though you randomly attacked an innocent man. Mike Shenfield is an abusive kidnapper whose actions are deplorable. Given your own experiences and moral convictions your response was understandable."

"No!" Booth suddenly leapt to his feet and whirled to face her, his arms raised as if trying to ward off her words, his face contorted in pain and anger, "Don't do that! Don't try to rationalize it and make it okay. It's not okay!"

Sighing, Brennan rose and calmly walked over to him. His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as she gently took hold of his wrists and lowered his arms to his sides. Locking her eyes with his she did her best to convey warmth and reassurance as she waited for him to calm down. After a few moments he lowered his head and sighed deeply, allowing her to lead him back to the bench they had just vacated.

Once seated, Brennan took his hand and held it firmly, providing an anchor for him as he struggled with his anger. Surreptitiously, she moved her thumb over the pulse point in Booth's wrist, quietly monitoring his racing heart until it returned to a calmer rhythm.

"I'm sorry," Booth finally spoke again, "I didn't mean to lash out at you. Like I said; anger control issues."

"It's alright, Booth. I know you would never hurt me."

"You sure about that?" Booth asked bitterly, his posture slumped and defeated.

"Of course I am," Brennan replied incredulously, "I would never think for one moment that you would ever lay a hand on me. You are not your father, Booth."

Booth sighed in frustration, "But a part of me is. That's genetics, right? A part of him is in me and I can't change that."

His eyes were burning with intensity as he turned fully to look at her, "Do you know what that feels like, Bones? To be scared of something that's inside of you, that you can't get away from? Every time that I get angry it's like I can feel him there, like I'm still a little kid helpless to stop him from hitting me, from hitting mom and Jared. I tried, Bones. I tried so hard to protect them, but I couldn't make it stop." Booth's words trailed off and his face contorted in anguish as he struggled against the onslaught of painful memories.

The sight of Booth in so much pain was heart crushing and Brennan struggled to maintain her composure. Booth needed this and he needed her to be strong for him as he had been for her so many times before. She took a deep breath and marshalled her self-control, "You were a child, Booth. You could no more prevent what happened to you than Samantha could prevent her own kidnapping. It wasn't your fault."

Booth's voice was thick with barely restrained tears as he forced out his next words, continuing as if he hadn't heard her, "You know my mom she … she suffered so much before she finally left. He hit her, slammed against doors and walls, threw her down the stairs. I don't blame her for leaving."

"Do you blame her for leaving you behind?" Brennan asked, knowing full well how it felt to be abandoned by a parent.

"No, I don't," Booth was firm in his defense of his mother, "I don't, Bones. She had to get out of there. Dad might have killed her if she'd stayed. She had to leave."

Brennan sighed, hating to push him but knowing she had to help him face his feelings, "Booth, it would be okay if you were angry with your mother. I realize that you don't want to be and that she was a victim too, but you and Jared were her children and she had a responsibility to protect you as well as herself. If Hank hadn't stepped in and told your father to leave …"

The mention of his grandfather brought Booth up short and he cut her off abruptly, "What do you mean? What do you know about that?"

Brennan cocked her head sympathetically and squeezed Booth's hand, "During the case last year when Hank was staying with you, he confided in me about the circumstances of your father's leaving. He asked me to tell you when the time was right and to give you the support you needed. I believe that time is now."

Booth's voice took on a childlike vulnerability, "What did he tell you?"

Brennan took a deep breath, mentally steeling herself for the additional pain she was about to cause him, "Hank told me that when he witnessed his son beating you, he told him that he did not deserve to be a father, and demanded that he leave immediately. He blamed himself for your father's actions and took responsibility for raising you and Jared."

"Oh God, Pops." Booth squeezed his eyes shut and dragged his hand across his face, gripping Brennan's hand tightly in the other. "That must have been hell for him. If I ever saw Parker doing something like that I'd …" He trailed off, struggling to process his thoughts.

Brennan leant closer to him, "He loves you, Booth. He couldn't bring himself to tell you how ashamed he was of his son and the guilt he felt for allowing him to hurt you."

"Yeah," Booth sniffled and sat back, taking a deep breath to regain his composure, "yeah, I get that."

They sat for a few moments in silence, letting the heaviness of the moment rest between them. Looking down at the ground Booth shuffled his feet across the grass, watching as the trampled leaves slowly raised themselves up again each time he moved his foot.

His voice was almost a whisper by the time he spoke again, "I loved mom so much and my dad's anger drove her away. I can't bear the thought of that happening again."

He turned towards Brennan, eyes shining with tears and pleading with her to somehow make it better, "What if I become like him, Bones? What if I hurt Parker or someone else I love?"

Brennan's own eyes had filled with tears at the pain and vulnerability in Booth's face. She valiantly held them back and forced herself to summon the necessary composure to give him the reassurance he so desperately needed.

"You will never become him, Booth. Never. That is a fact."

Booth shook his head sadly, "You can't know that, Bones. It's not something you can prove, and if you can't prove it then it's not a fact. You taught me that."

Marshalling the resources of her scientific and rational mind, Brennan prepared to make her case, determined more than ever to prove Booth wrong.

"I disagree. A fact is declared thus after the examination of all relevant data provides a definitive conclusion in support of it. Over the past six years that we have been partners I have observed a number of instances which have provided me with sufficient evidence to prove the validity of my statement."

"Like what?" Booth asked dejectedly, still far from convinced.

"Obviously," Brennan continued, "the most relevant data can be taken from my observations of your interactions with your own son, as they serve as a basis for comparison to the manner in which your father behaved towards you."

"Okay."

"In every instance I have seen you with Parker, I have observed you exhibit a fierce love and protectiveness which would naturally preclude you from ever intentionally harming him. Even when you have had cause to be angry with him, you have never threatened nor struck him, and it is very apparent that he loves you with the same intensity."

Booth nodded. That, at least, he could agree with. Even if a gun was held to his head he could never be compelled to hurt his son.

"You had the strength to face your gambling addiction and seek help, yet your father continued to drink without any regard for the impact his alcoholism had on those around him."

Now that Brennan was in full scientist mode, there was no stopping her. It was a comfort somehow, seeing this side of her during such an emotional conversation, Booth thought. She only ever spoke in this manner when she was absolutely certain of the veracity of what she was saying, and she was obviously completely convinced that Booth was nothing like his father.

"Furthermore," Brennan continued to stack up the evidence, "there is the way in which you approach your job. You pursue truth and justice with an integrity and determination which speaks to the strength of your character. A man with your sense of honor and morality would never intentionally harm an innocent person."

Tightening her grip on his hand, Brennan focused her determined eyes fully on Booth as she prepared to drive home her argument.

"Finally, there is our relationship. I am aware that I have frustrated, aggravated and even angered you numerous times over the years, and yet you have never behaved violently towards me. On the contrary, you have protected me, comforted me, and supported me in ways which have allowed me to grow as a person and form real relationships with my family and friends."

Smiling she spoke with such warmth and assuredness that Booth could not help but be drawn in by her words.

"These are real observations, Booth, not mere suppositions. They happened, and they prove that your character bears no resemblance to that of your father's. Therefore, I stand by my original assertion. You will never become him, Booth. You are your own man; a good, honest man, one whom I am incredibly grateful to have in my life."

A broad grin spread over Booth's face even as tears were still evident in his eyes. In a rush of emotion he pulled the hand which was holding his to his lips and pressed a fierce kiss against her fingers, drawing an affectionate smile from Brennan. Placing their still joined hands back into his lap, Booth allowed his feelings to be heard in his voice.

"Don't you ever, _ever_, let anyone say you're cold or unfeeling, Bones. If anyone ever says that to you then you send them to me because they are so wrong. You're amazing and you don't even realize it. This," he held up their entwined hands, "this is why I never want you to change, because only you could do this for me. Only you and your squinty way of looking at things could convince me of something I've never been able to believe."

He chuckled slightly, "For someone who hates psychology, you sure have a great understanding of it."

Brennan frowned even as his words warmed her heart, "I have a great understanding of you, Booth, not psychology."

"Yes you do, Bones," Booth agreed, "more than anyone else ever has. More than Rebecca, more than Hannah, more than anyone I've ever known. I'm closer to you than I've ever been to another person."

Unable to hold back her own emotions any longer, Brennan allowed a few tears to travel down her cheeks as she replied softly, "I assure you the feeling is mutual, Booth."

Booth nodded as his voice turned serious, "Thank you, Bones. Thank you. I'll never forget this."

"Nor will I," Brennan said, stroking her thumb over the now steady pulse in his wrist, "Thank you for being so honest with me, Booth. It means a great deal to me that you have enough trust in me to do so."

"More than enough, Bones," Booth assured her, "more than enough."

He looked away for a moment as if contemplating something, before pulling his eyes back to meet hers, his voice lighter than it had been since they had first sat down.

"You know, there's something that Sweets wrote in his book last year that always bothered me."

"Was it the numerous grammatical errors?" Brennan asked, the twinkle in her eyes telling Booth she knew full well that wasn't what he was referring to.

"No, Miss. Perfectionist, it wasn't the grammar," Booth chuckled, appreciating her attempt at humor after such an intense discussion, "It was the part where he said that I have white knight syndrome. I wasn't able to save my mother from my father, and Sweets said that I've been trying to compensate for that all these years by trying to save other people instead. I joined the army so I could help protect my country, I joined the FBI so that I could help protect the public, and I'm very protective of the people I care about."

"I've noticed," Brennan smiled, thinking back to their recent discussion about his overprotectiveness towards her.

Booth smiled back before continuing, "I think I've finally realized some things, Bones,"

He relaxed back into his seat, absentmindedly stroking his thumb across hers in a subconscious mirroring of the way hers was still moving across his wrist.

"Ever since I met Rebecca I've been trying to create the perfect family, the one I never had. The one where the husband and wife love each other and the kids are safe and happy. I've been trying to make every woman I've ever been with fit into that mold, whether she belonged there or not. Hannah told me straight up several times that she didn't want to get married, but I proposed to her anyway. After you and I …,"

Booth gestured between them, hoping Brennan would understand his meaning. She did and nodded for him to continue.

"After that I thought Hannah was my only chance at happiness, so I tried to make her fit into the life I thought I wanted, but it didn't work. I see now that it never could have, and now that I've had some time I realize that I'm glad about that."

Hope suffused Brennan's features as she eagerly listened to his every word, finally gaining the understanding she needed to process everything that had happened since she and Booth had returned to D.C.

Daring to voice her own thoughts, she asked nervously, "Has your ideal of happiness changed, Booth?"

"Yes," Booth replied without hesitation, "I won't deny that I still hope to get married one day, maybe have another kid or two, but I don't feel I have to have those things anymore. I can be happy without them, I know that now. Love is love whether two people are married or not, and as long as they accept and support each other, and can make each other happy, then that's all that really matters."

Brennan's eyes closed briefly as she took a moment to absorb Booth's words, the intensity of her relief and gratitude threatening to overwhelm her. When she opened her eyes again, Booth was gazing at her with unguarded affection, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Lifting his hand to gently tuck an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, Booth spoke softly, "I think all this time I've been trying to save you, Bones, but you're the one who's ended up saving me."

"I think we've saved each other, Booth," Brennan replied softly, leaning into his touch and allowing her feelings to play openly across her face.

Dropping his hand from her cheek Booth draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side, adjusting their clasped hands in his lap until they were both settled comfortably with Brennan's head resting against his chest. For several minutes they remained there, listening to the light breeze rustle the rose bushes and the distant chatter of the other park goers.

After a time, Booth spoke softly, "I know this case was difficult for you too, Bones. If there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here."

Brennan shifted slightly so she could look into his face, "Thank you, Booth, perhaps in a little while. For now, I would prefer to remain here and enjoy your company."

Booth smiled and gently kissed her head as she settled it back against his chest, "Fine by me, Bones."

**Well apparently this is what happens when I let my muse completely run the show: a very long chapter with an emotionally charged conversation in the middle of a public park. My carefully thought out notes have not been consulted once, but I hope it's worked out the way I hoped for anyway. The only way I'll know that is if I hear from you lovely readers, so I would be very grateful if you could leave me a review. It would also be helpful to know if you're all still awake after this marathon of a chapter, haha! I had intended on exploring the impact the case had on Brennan too, but I felt that Booth needed to be center stage in this one and that the chapter was long enough as it was. **

**Thank you so much for reading and I hope you'll all come back for The Hole in the Heart chapter, a.k.a, THE BIG ONE. ;-) **


	7. The Hole in the Heart

**I'm absolutely delighted with the response to the last chapter so thank you so much to everyone who left a review. I replied to all the signed ones but for those of you who left guest reviews please know how grateful I am for your comments.**

**One guest reviewer's comment was "Can't wait to see what your muse comes up with for the next one." Had I been able to reply to them I would have said "you and me both!" because up until I started writing I was still in two minds about which way this chapter was going to go. I handed things over to my muse and this is what happened. I really hope you like it. **

**This chapter takes up just after The Hole in the Heart fades out.***

***Everyone calm down and step away from the pitchforks! I'm starting at the end of the episode as I have done with all the other chapters, but I have not forgotten about THAT scene. Just bear with me for a little while. The story will earn its M rating before the end of this chapter, I promise. ;-)**

The Jeffersonian team's rendition of "The Lime in the Coconut" could still be heard echoing along the corridors as the group made their way back inside. They had just said goodbye to Vincent Nigel-Murray and seen his body off on its way home to England. It had been an exhausting and emotional case involving the loss of one of their own and it made them all feel a little better to be able to send him off with his favorite novelty song.

Their voices finally trailed off once they reached the lab. They stood together in silence for a few moments, gazes cast towards the forensic platform where Vincent had been shot. The sadness would linger for a time, but it was a comfort at least to know that Broadsky had finally been apprehended. Brennan's arm, still entwined with Booth's as it had been since they watched Vincent being driven away, tightened around his as she leant her head against his shoulder. The affectionate move went unnoticed by all but Angela, who smiled to herself in happiness for her friends.

Finally, the group turned to each other and exchanged hugs and goodbyes as they agreed to call it a night. Booth and Brennan were the last to remain as Brennan took a minute to gather her things from her office. For once, she did not intend on returning to the lab until absolutely necessary. She had other, more pleasurable ways to spend her evenings now. The source of that pleasure smiled and held out his hand as she walked out of her office. Brennan took it gratefully and they made their way down to the underground parking garage.

Neither spoke until they were seated inside Booth's vehicle. Preparing to start the engine Booth turned to Brennan and asked, "Ready to go home, Bones?"

Brennan smiled and replied without hesitation, "Yes, Booth."

As Booth reversed the car out of its space Brennan reflected on the fact that "home" now meant something very different to her than it had the day before. Home was no longer simply her own apartment. Home was wherever she and Booth were together, therefore it didn't matter whether they were heading for her apartment or his. Home was home. Neither spoke as Booth steered them out into the flow of traffic. Words were not necessary. They would come later. For the moment both were content simply to be in each other's presence and enjoy the happiness and gratitude they felt that neither had been lost that day.

After a few minutes it became apparent to Brennan that they were heading back to Booth's apartment. Smiling to herself as she looked out of the window, Brennan allowed her thoughts to drift and fondly recall the events of the night before.

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Minutes passed as Brennan continued to cry softly in Booth's embrace. As he whispered words of comfort and tenderly stroked her back and shoulders, Booth felt the renewed strength in his resolve to catch the bastard who had caused her this pain. Realizing they would be there for a while, Booth swung his legs up onto the bed and gently pulled Brennan over with him so that she was more comfortably settled against his side.

They lay that way for a few minutes more until Brennan's sobs quietened and her breathing evened out. Booth thought she might have fallen asleep until he heard her voice, hoarse from crying, break the silence.

"Thank you, Booth. I did not wish to wake you, however I was having difficulty dealing with my emotional turmoil alone."

Booth kissed the top of her head and squeezed her shoulders gently, "No thanks needed, Bones. You never have to be alone when you're sad, okay? I want to be here for you."

Feeling her nod against his chest, Booth continued, "I'm so sorry you had to lose another intern. I know after Zach you never wanted to get attached to any of them again, but I know Vincent meant a lot to you. He was a good kid."

"Yes, he was," Brennan agreed, sniffling slightly.

"Do you uh …," Booth hesitated for a moment as he tried to figure out how to make his suggestion without sounding presumptuous, "… Do you want to stay in here with me for the rest of the night? You don't have to be alone if you don't want to be."

Brennan raised her head to meet Booth's eyes and replied softly, "I would like that very much."

"Okay," Booth smiled, "Then why don't we get ourselves a bit more comfortable?"

They sat up and Booth began to pull the blankets aside so that they could both slip underneath. Movement from next to him drew his gaze and his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Brennan was in the process of pulling Booth's borrowed sweatshirt over her head, revealing a thin tank top underneath which clung to her curves. Tossing the garment aside Brennan turned back to Booth, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks when she noticed his expression.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather I …?" she gestured towards the discarded sweatshirt, "It's just I would be uncomfortably warm with it on given our combined body heat."

Booth continued to stare at her for a few moments, the words "combined body heat" conjuring all sorts of images in his mind. Recovering himself he managed to reply, "Uh, sure. No problem."

Nodding Brennan glanced down at the dark stain her tears had left on Booth's shirt. "For your own comfort I suggest you remove your shirt. I'm afraid my lacrimal secretions have dampened it."

Booth chuckled in an effort to hide the flush of desire he was sure was evident in his expression. "You couldn't just say tears, Bones?"

Brennan smiled indulgently at his familiar discomfort with her scientific terminology. "Fine. My tears got your shirt wet and you would be more comfortable if you removed it."

Still fighting to control the erotic images Brennan's suggestion had aroused, Booth quickly got to his feet and walked towards his dresser to retrieve a clean shirt, pulling off the other in the process and tossing it in the direction of the laundry basket.

"Actually," he stopped short when he heard Brennan's voice from behind him, "Would you mind leaving your shirt off?"

Booth turned to face her with an expression of shocked surprise and was about to question her when he saw the plaintive look on her face. She looked so vulnerable, sitting alone in the middle of his bed. Her eyes were still red from crying and all traces of the humor from moments ago had disappeared.

"I …," she struggled to continue, her voice betraying her uncertainty and need, "I would feel closer to you somehow if … ." Her voice trailed off as she sighed and looked at him expectantly.

The breath rushed from Booth's lungs at the intimacy of her request. In that moment it was impossible to deny how far she had come. That she was willing to be so openly vulnerable with him and tell him what she needed spoke volumes about the closeness which had developed between them.

Not willing to make her feel uncomfortable a moment longer, Booth crossed back over to the bed and climbed under the covers. He opened his arms and Brennan gratefully laid her head on his bare chest and settled herself in beside him. Pulling the blankets over them Booth murmured in her ear, "Whatever you need, Bones. I'm right here."

"Thank you," Brennan whispered softly, grateful beyond words for his understanding and comforting presence.

They were silent for a few moments and Booth closed his eyes, resigning himself to trying to get another hour or two of sleep. He was just beginning to drift off when Brennan spoke quietly.

"I'm scared, Booth."

His eyes snapped open and he shifted his head to look at her. "About tomorrow? It's going to be okay, Bones. Broadsky's good, but I can take him. I have to."

Sighing Brennan raised her head and placed her hands on his chest, "But what if you don't, Booth? While I have every faith in your skills, Broadsky is also an extremely proficient sniper. Your success is not a certainty."

Booth sighed. He couldn't deny that. He and Broadsky were more evenly matched than he was comfortable with, and it would be a lie to say that he was absolutely certain that he could beat him. Ultimately, though, he believed he had the advantage over Broadsky. After all, there was far more motivating him than a perverted sense of justice.

"You're right, Bones. It's not a certainty. But for all his skills and experience, I have something he doesn't have that gives me all the edge I need."

"What's that?" Brennan asked.

Booth's face set in a look of determination, "A reason to live."

Brennan nodded, "Parker. Of course."

"Parker," Booth acknowledged, looking directly into her eyes, "And you."

Brennan's breath hitched in her throat, the intensity of the moment narrowing her focus so that she was only aware of the feel of Booth's body against hers and her desperate need to hear his next words.

"Bones, we made an agreement a few months back, and since then we've been getting closer. A lot closer than we've ever been."

Brennan nodded in agreement.

"You've helped me to understand so much about myself and become a better man again after the mess of the last year. You've opened yourself up to me and shown me those amazing parts of yourself that I always knew were there."

Brennan felt tears cloud her vision for the second time that night, this time for an entirely different reason.

"Most of all," Booth continued, "You've helped me to find peace within myself. To know that I can be the kind of man who is worthy of love, who can be happy and make someone else happy."

Taking a deep breath, Booth allowed all the love he felt for Brennan to shine in his eyes as he raised his hand to caress her face, "The anger's gone, Bones. I'm ready, if you are."

Brennan closed her eyes and let his words wash over her, feeling her fears about the following day recede into the back of her mind. She lifted her hand and gently pressed it against the one Booth held to her cheek. Leaning into his touch she opened her eyes again and gazed into his, her own expression open and unguarded. Steadying her voice she prepared to make her own declaration.

"When we first made that agreement, I was still scared. The intensity of my feelings for you frightened me and made me feel terribly vulnerable. I thought that I would have to change, that to be with you I would have to become less rational and alter my opinions about marriage and religion. I was so worried that I would be incapable of those things and that a relationship between us would be unsustainable as a result."

Booth felt a pang of guilt at her words, knowing that he could have rectified that belief much earlier if he hadn't allowed his own fears to get in the way.

Brennan's expression softened as she reached out to touch Booth's face, stroking her fingers over his brow and down towards his chin, the sensitive pads of her fingers grazing over the slight stubble they found there.

"But over the last few months you have proved my fears to be unfounded. You have assured me that I do not have to change, that you accept me as I am and even find value in the elements of my personality which others find irritating. You have also helped me to realize that I can be happy and given me the confidence to believe that I can fulfil your needs as well as my own."

Smiling, Brennan held Booth's gaze and felt the confidence she had just spoken of surge through her.

"I no longer feel the need to be impervious, Booth, and I believe I am now strong enough to move beyond a purely platonic relationship with you."

To most people, the formal and carefully chosen words would have seemed devoid of passion and feeling, but to Booth, they were the most romantic ones he had ever heard. Never taking his eyes from hers, Booth slid his hand round to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he gently pulled her face down to his.

Their eyes fell closed as their lips finally met. Brennan sank down onto Booth's chest as they lost themselves in the kiss. While one hand remained in her hair Booth's other hand slid across Brennan's waist and pulled her closer to him. Brennan moaned and grasped the sides of Booth's face and deepened the kiss. After a few moments they pulled away from each other. Panting with hearts racing, they rested their foreheads together and closed their eyes, completely absorbed in the feelings that were washing over them.

"I love you, Bones," Booth whispered passionately, "I love you so much."

Smiling broadly, Brennan replied with equal passion, "I love you too, Booth. You make me happier than I ever imagined I could be."

Gently pulling her face away from his, Booth looked intently into her eyes, his voice laced with love and quiet determination.

"And that's how I know I'm going to get Broadsky. I didn't wait all this time to hear you say that to me just to get myself killed. You're all the motivation I need to make sure I come home tomorrow."

In a burst of emotion Brennan slammed her lips against Booth's and pulled his face as close to hers as possible. Booth eagerly returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around her torso as he felt Brennan's tongue make contact with his. Booth could feel himself hardening beneath her and knew if they continued for much longer then they wouldn't be able to stop.

With great effort, Booth broke the kiss and fought to catch his breath. Brennan frowned, face flushed and breathing heavily, "What's wrong, Booth? Why did you stop?"

Booth reached up to stroke her face in an effort to reassure her. Forcing his breathing into an even rhythm he explained, "I want you so badly, Bones, but it's after 5am and we have to get up in a few hours. We're tired, grieving and anxious, and that's not how I want us to feel the first time we make love. Not after we've waited for so long. Tomorrow I'm going to get Broadsky, then we're going to say goodbye to Vincent, then we're going to be together."

Brennan sighed and nodded, trying valiantly not to look too disappointed, "You make a logical argument, Booth, although I find I am rather irritated by it."

Booth chuckled as Brennan shifted slightly and jabbed her finger into Booth's chest, her face contorted in a mixture of frustration and anxiety, "Don't you dare die, Booth."

Booth smiled warmly as he continued to caress her cheek, "Have faith in us, Bones. This is just the beginning. I promise."

"Though rationally I know that you cannot guarantee that," Brennan reasoned, "I find that I believe you anyway."

A broad grin spread across Booth's face, "I'm glad, Bones."

They held each other's gaze for a few moments longer until Brennan leant forward and kissed Booth lightly before settling herself back onto his chest. Booth's arms tightened securely around her as his eyes slid closed. Just before he fell asleep he made a promise to himself: he would not let this woman down.

)()()()()()()()()()()(

Brennan's thoughts were pulled back to the present as Booth brought the car to a stop outside his apartment building. She had been so absorbed in her memories of the night before that she had failed to notice how much time had passed since they had left the Jeffersonian. Glancing at Booth she found that he was looking at her with a mixture of affection and amusement.

"You okay there, Bones?"

Brennan smiled and shook her head to clear it. "Yes, I'm fine. My thoughts just wandered, that's all."

Booth grinned, having a pretty good idea as to exactly where those thoughts had wandered to. Unbuckling his seatbelt he swung open his car door. Brennan did the same with hers and circled around the vehicle to join Booth on the sidewalk. Clasping hands they made their way inside and into the elevator up to Booth's apartment.

Once there Booth unlocked the door and gestured for Brennan to precede him inside. Shrugging off her coat Brennan sighed in relief at the comforting familiarity she found there. As she glanced around Booth's apartment an undeniable thrill tinged with nervous anticipation shot through her system at the thought of what lay ahead that evening. Her gaze took in the stadium chairs still present in the living area. Memories of the night of the blizzard washed over her as she allowed herself a few moments to appreciate how far they had come together since they had burned their paper promises.

The sound of approaching footsteps caused her to turn around as Booth came up beside her and handed her a beer. She took it wordlessly and smiled in gratitude. They clinked bottles and each took a fortifying sip before Booth set his aside.

"Why don't you make yourself at home, Bones," he suggested softly, "I'll just be a few minutes."

Assuming he was heading to the restroom, Brennan nodded and wandered over to the window. The curtains were still drawn and the clear night allowed her to discern a number of familiar stars and constellations. As she stared up at Sirius, its brilliance outshining all other stars, a peaceful clarity descended over her. The memories and experiences of the last six years seemed to coalesce into an undeniable certainty that here, in this moment, she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

All the times she had imagined the prelude to her first night with Booth, nerves and uncertainty had dominated her mind. So much had passed between them that it had seemed impossible to believe that this night could be as simple as two new lovers coming together, with no barriers to separate them. And yet, as she stood awaiting Booth's return, Brennan felt the last vestiges of her fear fall away, leaving only certainty and love behind.

"Bones?"

Booth's voice drew her gaze away from the night sky and back into the dim light of the apartment. Turning around to face him, Brennan's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He had removed his suit jacket and dress shirt, leaving only a fitted white t-shirt to hide the muscular chest and abdominals she knew lay beneath. Taking in her appraising look and the flush of desire that suffused her cheeks, Booth walked towards her with quiet determination.

He had planned on this night going a little differently. He had thought they would share a drink or two, talk a while and then take things from there. Looking at Brennan now, however, any words he might have thought to say to her suddenly vanished from his mind. They were finally here, together, perched on the precipice they had been approaching for years. The time for conversation was over, and there seemed no reasons left to wait any longer.

Coming to a halt mere inches from her, Booth gently took the beer from her hand, never breaking her heated gaze as he placed it down gently on the window sill. Taking her now unencumbered hands in his, Booth took one last lingering look into her eyes, wanting to be absolutely sure that she was ready. What he found in her unguarded expression left no room for doubt that she was as ready as he was. Silently, he led her away from the window, across the living area, and into his bedroom.

Once inside, Brennan gasped at the scene before her. _So this is what he was doing earlier_, she marveled to herself.

The surfaces of the dresser and both nightstands were adorned with candles of varying shapes and sizes. Her discerning eyes recognized them as the same ones from the night of the blizzard, including the one they had used to burn their pieces of paper.

"Booth," she breathed out in a voice tinged with wonder.

Brennan turned to face him and found him looking at her nervously.

"I know it's a bit of a cliché," Booth said, stoking his thumb over the soft skin of her hand, "But, I thought …," his voice trailed off as he waited for her to say something.

"Not at all, Booth," Brennan rushed to reassure him, "At least, not to me. From a symbolic perspective, the candles represent us coming full circle, from the night we agreed we would one day be together to tonight when we will finally bring that agreement to completion. It's perfect," she finished softly.

Booth smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. In her own unique way, Brennan had seen exactly what he had wanted her to see. Stepping closer to him so their bodies were almost touching, Brennan gazed intently into his eyes, the desire in her expression rising to match his.

"You told me after Hannah left that no woman wanted what you were offering, but you were wrong, Booth. I wanted so much to tell you that night. I want what you're offering. I want _you_. I have for a long time, but it's only now that I feel ready to accept everything you have to give, and to give of myself equally in return. I'm here, I'm ready, and if you kiss me now I promise I will not push you away again."

His face now inches from hers, Booth grinned and said huskily, "I think I might need you to prove that to me."

"I do enjoy proving things," Brennan replied before Booth's lips crashed into hers.

Their arms surrounded each other and held on tightly as the passion they had been suppressing for so long rose up and robbed them of all self-control. Frantic hands tore at each other's clothing which was cast carelessly to the floor as they stumbled over to the bed. Clad only in their underwear the couple fell onto the sheets, the sudden impact sending out a rush of air causing the candle flames to flicker.

Brennan's head fell to one side as Booth lavished kisses along her neck and shoulder. Her gaze was caught for a moment by the shadows cast upon the walls. As she watched, the shadows seemed to move together, undulating and dancing in a foreshadowing of what was to come between her and Booth. The beauty of the symbolism was not lost on her, even as she turned her head back to recapture Booth's lips and banished all coherent thoughts from her mind.

Running his hand underneath her back Booth unsnapped Brennan's bra and gently tugged the straps down her arms. He pulled the garment from her body and let it fall to the floor, his attention immediately drawn to her now exposed breasts. A moan was pulled from deep within Brennan's throat as Booth's mouth descended on her flesh. Her back arched as Booth ran his tongue hotly over one breast while exploring the other with insistent fingers, quickly finding her puckered nipple and pinching it gently, then harder when her moans became more passionate in response.

Trailing the fingers of his free hand across her quivering stomach, Booth slid his hand down the side of her panties and edged them over her hips and thighs. Impatiently, Brennan kicked them away and allowed her legs to fall open, lifting her pelvis off the bed in an obvious indication as to what she desired. She was more wanton and out of control than she had ever allowed herself to be before, and as Booth slipped his fingers into her wet folds she knew being in love really did make all the difference.

Dragging his lips back up towards Brennan's mouth, Booth took her lips in a passionate kiss as he increased the pace and pressure of his fingers between her legs. The sounds of pleasure she was making were intoxicating and Booth knew he would never tire of hearing them. Shifting his hand slightly he thrust two fingers into her warmth and began to move them rapidly in and out, pushing her closer and closer to blissful oblivion.

It took mere moments before the joy of finally feeling Booth touch her so intimately became too much for Brennan. Ripping her mouth away from his and squeezing her eyes shut, she cried out in ecstasy as every nerve ending in her body exploded with pleasure.

Gradually, Booth slowed the movement of his fingers until Brennan calmed and he gently removed them. Her breathing was still coming in ragged gasps when he tenderly kissed her forehead and stroked his other hand through her hair.

"You okay, Bones?" he whispered.

Brennan lazily opened her eyes and met his. She smiled and reached up to gently graze the side of his cheek.

"I feel wonderful, Booth," she murmured, "I love you."

Booth kissed her lightly on the lips before replying, "I love you too, Bones."

Taking his face firmly in her hands Brennan held his gaze, the challenging yet lustful look in her eyes stealing Booth's breath just as much as her next words.

"Prove it."

Grinning, Booth hastily removed his boxers before rolling over so that he was cradled between her thighs. Shifting her position slightly, Brennan's inner thigh brushed against Booth's straining erection, drawing a pained groan from his lips and a satisfied grin from hers. Pulling his head down in a fierce kiss, Brennan tilted her hips upwards, giving him some final encouragement.

Not that he needed any.

Scarcely believing this was finally happening, Booth positioned himself at Brennan's entrance, his body straining to complete their joining. Wanting to prolong the anticipation a few seconds longer, Booth locked eyes with Brennan's and held her gaze, communicating without words his love and desire for her. The sight of the same devotion reflected back at him in her expression snapped his self-control and he thrust forward into her welcoming heat.

Brennan responded immediately with a strangled cry of his name and the tightening of her embrace where she had slid her arms around his shoulders. Her head fell back against the pillows and her eyes fell closed, savoring the moment she had yearned for for so long.

The pleasure of finally being inside her was almost overwhelming and Booth panted in an attempt to stave off his orgasm. Holding still for a few moments he rained kisses along Brennan's exposed neck as a means of distracting himself. Regaining some control, Booth raised himself up on his elbows and began thrusting in a steady rhythm. Slow at first and then faster as Brennan's moans became louder and more insistent. Neither of them were capable of coherent thought or speech; their attention focused solely on the feel of the other as they soared towards the culmination of years of repressed longing and desire.

Suddenly, Booth felt Brennan stiffen beneath him, her inner walls clamping around him for an instant before they began to quiver. Thrusting into her one more time Booth sent her flying over the precipice with a passionate cry of his name. Seconds later he couldn't help but follow her, his cries of pleasure joining hers to echo throughout the walls of his apartment.

Struggling to catch their breaths, the new lovers remained entwined for several minutes before Booth gently pulled away from Brennan and lay down beside her, drawing her in close to his side. Brennan laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes in blissful satisfaction, listening to Booth's heartrate gradually returning to normal.

When he felt recovered enough to form words, Booth looked down at Brennan, his cocky grin in full force.

"Well, did I prove my love for you to your satisfaction, Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan tilted her head up towards him, her expression forming into that of the rational scientist he found so fascinating.

"A good scientist never accepts the result of one experiment as satisfactory proof of a conclusion, Booth. I believe it will be necessary to repeat the experiment, likely multiple times, for the sake of scientific accuracy, of course."

Booth chuckled and kissed top of her head, "Of course. I would never presume to argue with science."

Brennan grinned and raised herself up on his chest so she could face him, "I'm glad you agree, Booth. I believe we should begin right away."

)()()()()()()()()()()(

It would be several days before Brennan would return to her apartment and notice the forgotten pack of birth control pills on her nightstand. The unexpected result of becoming too caught up in her experiments.

**Well we made it and our favorite couple are finally together. I know most of you were probably expecting it to happen a bit differently but I really hope you liked it anyway. I'm not saying this is what happened on the show, but it's the interpretation that felt right for this story. After everything Booth and Brennan have been through I thought they deserved more than comfort sex when they were exhausted, anxious and grieving. There are also many stories out there already which have explored the possibilities of that night, so I felt like doing something a bit different. **

**I'm always eager to hear your thoughts but I'm particularly anxious for feedback this time as I'm very nervous about your reactions to the delayed gratification (how much did you all hate me when I did that?!) and the "Mmmy" parts of the story (you can thank the very talented Covalent Bond for that cheeky little term!) I just followed my muse on her wanderings so I'll be blaming her if it doesn't go down well!**

**There will be one more chapter for The Change in the Game and then that will be the end of this story. It will hopefully be posted by the end of the week. Thanks so much for reading. **


	8. The Change in the Game

**Since this will be the last chapter of this story I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has been reading and especially reviewing it. I was very nervous about coming back to writing after being away for so long but you've all given me a very warm welcome back into the fanfiction community. I wish I had come back sooner! I have other stories in the pipeline which I'll leave a note about at the end of the chapter. **

**This chapter takes up just after The Change in the Game fades out. **

Standing on the street corner with wide grins on their faces, Booth and Brennan continued to stare at each other as they allowed the significance of the moment to expand and surround them, making them feel as if time had stopped the second the words had left Brennan's lips.

"I'm pregnant."

She had struggled to get the words out, her usual eloquence and ability to articulate her thoughts having abandoned her in the face of the most important statement she had ever made in her life.

From the moment she had returned home from several days of "experiments" with Booth and noticed the forgotten birth control pills, she had known of the possibility. Brushing aside all emotional concerns, her scientist's mind had immediately taken over and she had begun to calculate the odds of a pregnancy occurring during that stage in her menstrual cycle.

She concluded that the probability was not high, but neither was it non-existent.

Rationalizing that it would be irresponsible to continue activities such as the consumption of alcohol while the possibility of her being pregnant existed, she had resolved to make an appointment with her gynecologist and have her perform a blood test. A fleeting thought had crossed her mind that she could simply purchase an over-the-counter home pregnancy test, however, that thought was quickly dismissed as she determined that she would prefer to wait for the more scientifically accurate blood test.

Having made her decision, her thoughts had turned to the question of what to tell Booth. She had paced the floor of her bedroom in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness as she mentally chastised herself for becoming so caught up in their new relationship that she had neglected to take basic precautions. Booth had made no comment on the issue over the few days they had spent together, but it was more than likely that he had assumed she was on birth control. He was so accustomed to her rational practicality that it made sense for him to assume that, had they needed to use condoms, she would have said so.

Apparently, even her formidable rationality was susceptible to being overcome by intense emotions – love, most of all. While she was the happiest she could ever recall feeling that she and Booth had finally embarked on a romantic relationship, she had not anticipated the issue of children to raise itself at such an early stage. If she was, in fact, pregnant, how would Booth react to fathering another child out of wedlock? Would he think it was too soon for them to become parents? Would he be angry with her for failing to take precautions? Her knowledge of Booth's character and his feelings for her were quick to dismiss that last possibility, and yet, a seed of doubt had remained in her mind.

She had gotten an appointment for a blood test quickly, and had thrown herself into her work as she waited for the results. Her evenings with Booth, Angela's impending due date and the case at the bowling alley had provided welcome distractions. It had certainly helped that she had been showing no signs of pregnancy, and she had almost succeeded in convincing herself that the blood test would come back negative.

Almost, that is, until her cell phone had rung while she was in the hospital waiting room during Angela's labor. She had quickly stepped outside to take the call, and been stunned to hear her gynecologist deliver the news of a positive result. Hanging up, she had taken several deep breaths to gather herself, knowing that she would soon be needed back inside to greet the newest member of the Jeffersonian family. In that moment, the comment she had made to her father during the case about the possibility of she and "Buck" having a child had suddenly seemed prophetic.

Summoning her ability to compartmentalize, she had walked confidently back into the waiting room and retaken her seat, brushing off Booth's questioning look with a smile she hoped was convincing. To her great relief, Hodgins had entered the room shortly afterwards carrying his new born son, who had served to effectively distract Booth and everyone else. Sharing a smile with Booth after taking a few moments to gaze fondly at Michael Vincent, she had quietly excused herself to speak with Angela. Feeling compelled to ask about the experience which she herself would be undergoing in nine months' time, Brennan had felt a little better hearing her best friend describe the wonder she had felt at giving birth.

Brennan's mind snapped back to the present as she felt Booth take a gentle hold of her hands and step closer to her.

"You're pregnant? Bones, that's … that's fantastic! Are you okay? I mean, are you happy? When did you find out?"

The questions tumbled excitedly out of Booth's mouth and as he began to wrap his mind around the news that he was going to be a father again. Even as Brennan considered her response, she couldn't help the spark of affection she felt as she saw an echo of Parker's youthful exuberance in Booth's expression.

Squeezing his hands in hers, Brennan prepared to give voice to the fears which had been plaguing her since she realized that she might be pregnant.

"I found out while we were at the hospital when my gynecologist called, but … you're not angry with me, for neglecting to maintain by birth control schedule? It doesn't bother you to be having another child out of wedlock?"

Booth caressed his thumbs across her skin reassuringly, "Bones, of course I'm not angry with you. I'm as responsible for this pregnancy as you are. I didn't even ask if you were on birth control, I just assumed you were. But none of that matters now."

Moving closer to Brennan, Booth gently took his hands from hers and brought them up to rest on her shoulders.

"I admit, it's unexpected, but being a father is the best thing I've ever done and I'm over the moon that I get to do it again, especially with you. I told you that my idea of happiness has changed, and that I don't need to be married to be happy. I meant that, Bones. All I care about is that we raise this baby together and that we love each other. Nothing else matters."

Tears welled in Brennan's eyes as her fears melted away at the love and sincerity in Booth's voice. Suddenly overcome with the urge to express her love and gratitude for the man standing before her, Brennan launched herself into Booth's arms and kissed him passionately, heedless of where they were and the passing glances of other pedestrians.

Booth returned the kiss with equal fervor as he wrapped his arms around her, scarcely able to believe that fate had granted him such great fortune. Pulling away from her slightly after a few moments, Booth took Brennan's face in his hands and injected every ounce of happiness into his words.

"Look, Bones, I love you. I know we have a lot of things that we'll need to work out before the baby comes, but I have absolute faith in us. We'll argue and we'll disagree sometimes but at the end of the day we'll work it out. Together, like always. We're going to be parents, Bones. For tonight, let's just enjoy that. We can start figuring out everything else tomorrow."

Brennan nodded and smiled, "I love you too, Booth, and to answer your earlier question: yes, I am very happy."

Booth grinned and kissed her again before enfolding her in his arms in a tight embrace.

"So, do you want to go home? We can head to your apartment if you want?"

Brennan pulled away slightly and looked up at him, "Actually, I would like to stop by The Founding Fathers first."

"Really?" Booth asked quizzically.

"Yes," Brennan smiled, "Over the past few months we have made significant strides in our relationship through conversations held at The Founding Fathers. Somehow, it feels appropriate to spend some time there tonight."

Booth smiled affectionately at Brennan's reasoning, "The Founding Fathers it is. But if you get tired, you let me know, okay? I don't want you to overdo it."

"Boooooth," Brennan rolled her eyes at Booth's overprotectiveness, "While I appreciate your concern, I am more than capable of ensuring that I take adequate care of myself during this pregnancy. It is not necessary for you to worry."

Booth chuckled, "Bones, telling me not to worry about you while you're pregnant is like telling a leopard not to have spots."

"That would be an impossibility," Brennan replied, frowning, "Since leopards by their very nature always have spots. It is not something they have the ability to change."

Booth smiled in satisfaction, "Exactly."

A slow smile spread across Brennan's face, "I believe you are trying to say that it is in your nature to show concern for me, despite my assurances that it is unnecessary."

"Right," Booth replied, "I know we've talked about my overprotectiveness and I understand that you can look after yourself, but I'm afraid that I can't help but feel extra protective of you now that you're having our baby."

Brennan nodded, her voice taking on a familiar analytical tone, "Scientifically, your argument makes sense. As the father of this child you have a biological imperative to protect your progeny. However," Brennan gently prodded Booth in the chest, "I reserve my right to assert my independence should I feel that you are becoming overbearing."

Booth shook his head and smiled, knowing this would be a conversation they would likely have multiple times before the baby was born. Deciding to concede defeat for the moment, Booth kissed Brennan's forehead before replying, "Okay, Bones. Deal."

With a satisfied smile, Brennan withdrew from Booth's embrace and slipped her arm through his as they headed for The Founding Fathers.

)()()()()()()()(

The bartender looked up from wiping a stain from the counter and smiled when he saw his favorite regulars walking through the door. He paused as his smile turned into a grin when he noticed that something was different – they were holding hands. And grinning like idiots. _Could it be?_ He wondered to himself, _that they've finally come to their senses?_

The pair walked up to the bar and took two of the vacant seats. Still smiling, the bartender gestured towards the fridge containing rows of beers and asked, "The usual?"

The two exchanged glances and smiled secretly to each other. _Yep_, the bartender thought, _something has definitely changed_.

Booth responded first, "That's fine for me, but Bones will …"

"I will require a non-alcoholic beverage," Brennan cut in, "I have recently become pregnant."

Her matter of fact tone belied the significance of her statement and the incredulous look her partner gave her told the bartender that they were not accustomed to sharing this news.

"Well congratulations, that's fantastic! I'm glad you two have finally figured things out."

Two faces frowned in his direction. "Excuse me?" Brennan asked.

The bartender chuckled, "What I mean is, I'm a bartender, a people person, you know? I see a lot of folks come through here and you two have been coming in for years. I couldn't help but notice how good you are together. I'm just glad that you've both finally realized that yourselves."

Booth and Brennan smiled, "That is very kind of you to say," Brennan acknowledged.

"Hey," Booth said, "I don't think we've ever gotten your name."

The bartender extended his hand across the bar and shook Booth's, "Tony, sir. The name's Tony."

Again the pair exchanged looks, as if a secret was passing between them. Both turned back to him in unison as Brennan asked in a playful tone, "Do you by any chance have a girlfriend, or significant other, named Roxy?"

Booth chuckled in response as Tony frowned in confusion, obviously having stumbled onto a private joke.

"Eh, no, ma'am. I do have a dog called Bonnie, but no Roxy."

Moving past the unusual question, Tony said, "Listen, it's not every day that you get news like this. How about I get you a virgin cocktail and a fine scotch? On the house."

"That is very generous of you, thank you," Brennan said, smiling.

"Yeah," Booth agreed, "Thanks, man."

"You're welcome," Tony replied before moving away to get the drinks.

Just as he was putting the finishing touches to Brennan's non-alcoholic cocktail, Tony glanced back across the bar when he heard the familiar sounds of his favorite customers bickering. _That didn't take long_, Tony thought to himself, amused and unconcerned for the couple. He had overheard snippets of enough of their conversations over the years to know that this was just their way; arguing one minute and openly affectionate the next. Either way, there was no questioning the love between them, and Tony was delighted that, after so many years of denying themselves, they were finally going to be a family – with one hell of a lucky kid.

**So, there you have it! I'm actually sad to have reached the end of this story but it had to finish sometime. I decided not to delve into all the issues Booth and Brennan will need to overcome on the road to becoming parents because that was what season 7 was for, so I'm going to leave it there. **

**A few of you have mentioned the possibility of a "scenes we didn't see" style sequel. I have thought about that and it's something I may consider in the future, but for the moment I have a long list of other story ideas I want to get to first, so if I do write a sequel then it probably won't be for a while.**

**I'm not sure which story idea the muse will choose next, but at the moment she's leaning towards this one: "When one of Brennan's former foster siblings turns up murdered, the resulting investigation forces her to confront a past she has tried so hard to forget."**

**Does that sound like something you guys would be interested in? I would love to hear your thoughts! I would also be delighted if you would add me to your author alert lists, that way you won't miss any new stories. Some of you have already done so which I really appreciate.**

**Thank you again to all of you and I hope you'll come back and read my future stories. :-) **


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